


I Knew It All Along

by LittleRose13



Series: I Knew It All Along (series) [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Adult Scorbus, Anxiety, Babies, Domestic, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Husbands, M/M, Married Couple, Married Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Pandemics, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Pregnancy, Surrogacy, Thea Jordan/Rose Granger-Weasley - Freeform, Unplanned Pregnancy, discussion of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 71,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28979916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRose13/pseuds/LittleRose13
Summary: Married life is perfect. Scorpius is flourishing in his dream job at the hospital and Albus’ brewing business continues to make waves in the world of potioneering. But nothing is as gratifying as coming home to each other, Pepper Imp the pygmy puff and their recent yet very real plans to have a baby.Not everything is straightforward though. When a dangerous disease begins to spread exponentially through the children of magical Britain alongside a barrage of relentless attempts to steal from Albus’ business, Scorpius and Albus’ hopes to start a little family of their own slip further and further out of their reach.Nothing can put a stop to their plans forever, though, can it?The second sequel to Sweeter Than Fiction but can be read on its own. This is a completed fic, updates will be every Monday.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley
Series: I Knew It All Along (series) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/868896
Comments: 187
Kudos: 141





	1. Foreword - Black Cat Flu

##  ****

##  **Black Cat Flu**

_Information correct as of April 2031._

## What is Black Cat Flu?

Black Cat Flu (BCF) is a highly contagious disease that infects the magical system of a person. 

It cannot present itself in a non-magical person, nor can a non-magical person carry the disease.

BCF is transmitted when a person with an infected magical system uses direct magic on another, uninfected person. It is believed to be less likely to transmit to a second host magical system if direct magic is channeled via a wand. For this reason, BCF is most common in young children performing accidental magic without the use of a wand.

BCF is degenerative but treatable, meaning urgent medical attention is required in the event of a suspected case. You must see a Healer at once if you or a member of your family presents any symptoms of BCF. 

## What are the symptoms of Black Cat Flu?

BCF is characterised in three main stages, each with their own progression of symptoms. The earlier BCF is identified and treated, the quicker and more successful treatment will be.

BCF primarily affects the magical system, suppressing magical power. You are likely to experience Magical Exhaustion if infected with BCF. If you are experiencing an unexplained bout of Magical Exhaustion, especially if paired with any of the symptoms below, it is important to contact your Healer who can test your magical system for BCF. 

It is more difficult to notice Magical Exhaustion in young children who do not use magic on a regular basis. For this reason, it is important to be aware of the following symptoms, in particular those of Stage One.

Stage One symptoms include:

  * A persistent sneeze
  * A fever of 38 or higher (often with cold extremities)
  * Uncharacteristic fatigue or lethargy (can be a sign of Magical Exhaustion)
  * An unexpected change in the presentation of magical ability (a sign of Magical Exhaustion)



Stage Two is characterised by:

  * Cat-like whiskers growing from the cheeks; these may look more like a rash when they first appear
  * Increased fatigue (often has trouble staying awake for sustained periods of time)
  * Continued Stage One symptoms



Stage Three is characterised by:

  * Eyes narrowing and changing in colour, closely resemble a black cat’s
  * Complete suppression of magical ability 



_Important: evidence increasingly suggests adults with wands may be able to carry or pass on the disease without themselves contracting or showing symptoms. It is essential that everyone practises good wand hygiene._

If you or someone in your family presents any of these symptoms, contact your Healer immediately.

## How is Black Cat Flu diagnosed?

BCF is most easily treatable at Stage One, however it is the most difficult to diagnose at this stage. If a child or adult is thought to be at risk of BCF, a Healer can perform a scanning charm of the magical system to test for BCF infection. 

At this time, is it not possible to test children for BCF at any location in the UK other than St Mungo’s hospital, where there is a designated testing clinic. Please owl your local Ministry representative if you require assistance to travel to the hospital. 

If BCF is not caught at Stage One, it will quickly be apparent by the appearance of Stage Two whiskers. Children with this symptom do not need to take a test.

BCF is highly contagious. It is extremely important that any person with either a positive test or suspected BCF symptoms does not perform any magic. Young children without wands or anyone else with less control over their magic should be isolated from others to reduce the risk of transmission via Accidental Magical Outburst.

## How is Black Cat Flu treated?

BCF is treated with Tincture of Granian Hair which is able to enter the magical system and engulf the virus responsible for the infection. Treatment varies depending on when the infection has been diagnosed:

If BCF is diagnosed at Stage One:

  * A seven day course of Tincture of Granian Hair will be prescribed, to be taken at home
  * You must not use any magic during the course
  * Young children (under 11) should be kept apart from other people
  * A second test will be performed at the end of the course to ensure the infection has been removed



If BCF is diagnosed at Stage Two:

  * A twenty-eight day course of Tincture of Granian Hair will be prescribed
  * The patient will enter isolation under professional medical care, most likely at St Mungo’s hospital
  * A second test will be performed at the end of the course to ensure the infection has been removed 



BCF is very unlikely to reach Stage Three, as treatment intervention is enough to prevent this.

Tincture of Granian Hair engulfs and overpowers the virus, however it is a sensitive ingredient and must only be used as prescribed by a Healer. The tincture is designed to react to the current strain of Black Cat Flu but this can evolve and become resistant to the tincture over time. For this reason, the tincture cannot be given to children as a precaution and is used in the smallest dose quantity possible. 

## What happens if Black Cat Flu is left untreated?

BCF must be treated with Tincture of Granian Hair as soon as it is diagnosed. It is an infectious disease and without treatment, will eventually overpower the magical system. This can cause dangerous magical explosions in the body which will have a permanent effect on magical ability and can even be fatal in some cases. 

In 1974, an epidemic of Black Cat Flu spread through Britain. In this time, over 3,000 magical people contracted Stage Two of the disease and were treated with Tincture of Granian Hair. The majority of these cases were children. 13 children progressed to Stage Three and of these, 12 died due to magical explosion complications. 

It is important to note that the Tincture of Granian Hair used by Healers today is more effective than that of 1974. 

In December 2030, two cases of Stage Two BCF were diagnosed in St Mungo’s. Despite timely treatment and the isolation of these two cases, the disease spread. At time of writing, there have been over 2,000 cases of BCF. Of these cases, less than half progressed to Stage Two. There have been no cases of Stage Three BCF.

The Ministry of Magic currently considers the alert level to be High. This means precautions are thought to impact most day-to-day procedures.

## How can Black Cat Flu be prevented?

BCF is a viral infection which is passed between magical systems. For this reason, general magical hygiene is recommended, with extra caution taken around young children. These cautions include:

  * Cleaning wands regularly, and always before the use of direct magic
  * Using a wand cover (currently mandatory for children under 17 with a wand)
  * Using non-magic alternatives - speak to your local Ministry representative who will be able to provide you with information on how to use and access some non-magic alternatives 



Please note: despite the scheduled Easter break, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry currently remains in a state of lockdown for the protection and safety of students and staff, as well as the general public. If you are a parent or guardian of a Hogwarts student, you will have received information about the safety measures in place; if required, you may request an additional copy of this letter by owling the school.

_Information last reviewed: 9 April 2031_

_Next review due: 3 May 2031_


	2. Chapter 1 - Warrior Princesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist: [When We Were Young - The Wild Wild](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaxxpkLTB8Q)

The beach at Shell Cove was one of Albus’ favourite ways to escape the fast paced life he was used to in London. A warm, April breeze carried the scent of salt over to where he stood on the sand, a few feet behind his husband. Scorpius had kicked his shoes off, rolled his trousers up to his calves and was allowing the gentle waves to lap at his ankles. He turned and reached his hand out to Albus, beckoning him forward. 

“I don’t want to get my new shoes wet and they take forever to unlace,” Albus said softly, taking Scorpius’ hand anyway. He could feel the familiar wedding band, cool and smooth between his fingers. 

Scorpius chuckled lightly and pulled his wand out, disguised by a pale blue wand cover, aiming a quick  _ impervius _ spell at Albus’ feet. “There you go, they won’t get wet.” 

It was a mark of his trust for Scorpius’ magic, Albus thought, when he went splashing into the sea without hesitation, his brand new, floral patterned boots repelling the water and sand perfectly. They’d been the most successful part of a shopping trip he’d ended up having to take by himself when Scorpius got stuck working at the hospital again and Albus was rather pleased with them. 

They held hands, stood in the shallows of the cool water. Scorpius caught his eye and smiled shyly, spurring Albus to lean over and kiss the corner of his mouth. Grinning, Scorpius wrapped his arm around Albus’ shoulders, allowing Albus to rest his head in the crook of his husband’s neck. 

“We should move to the coast,” Albus mused. “You know, one day.” 

“One day,” Scorpius echoed, seeming to be deep in thought. 

Neither of them said anything, simply gazing out over the water, being together. Scorpius stifled a yawn into the top of Albus’ head and mumbled an apology. Albus wasn’t sure why he was apologising; he’d had less than three hours of sleep after his night shift and really should have still been in bed. 

“Think they’d notice if we just stayed here all afternoon?” Albus looked out across the water, the breeze blowing his hair in and out of his eyes.

“Yes. In fact, I think we’ve already been spotted.” Scorpius stared determinedly out at the water too.

Instantly, Albus heard what he meant.

“Uncle Al! Scorpy!” A little voice floated over the sand from the house up on the hill.

Reluctant to unwind from his husband, even for his sweet niece, Albus turned just his neck to peer over. Pippa was hanging out of the window and waving furiously. Even though she was too far away for Albus to really see, he knew she’d be doing that toothy grin of hers. 

“Hi, Pip! We’re just coming.” 

“Happy birthday, Pippa!” Scorpius added. 

Pippa waved again and disappeared from the window. 

“We should go up before she insists on running down here,” Albus said faintly into Scorpius’ jaw. 

“Alright. Have you got the presents?” Scorpius unhooked his arm and led Albus out of the water, casting a quick drying and cleaning charm over his feet before he slipped his well-loved leather brogues back on. 

“In my bag,” Albus replied. He picked his feet up experimentally. “Nice one with the impervius charm.” 

“You could say,” Scorpius paused and wiggled his eyebrows, “it worked  _ like a charm.”  _

Albus rolled his eyes fondly and started to hike back up the sand towards the Lupins’ house. 

“You married me for my excellent puns, remember?” Scorpius called after him through laughter. “It was in our vows and everything.” 

“Not in the final draft,” Albus chuckled, pausing to wait for Scorpius to catch up.

They made the short walk to the beachside cottage in only a few minutes. Albus had expected Pippa at least to be waiting at the open door, seeing as she knew they were coming, but the door was closed. Scorpius knocked and they waited on the doorstep.

“This is going to be a bit crazy, isn’t it?” Scorpius said. 

“Oh yes, absolutely yes,” Albus agreed.

The door opened and Teddy stood on the other side. “Hello!” He stood back to let them in.

“Did a unicorn throw up in here?” Albus surveyed the living room which was covered in more pink glitter than Albus had ever seen (and he’d grown up with Lily). A large  _ Happy Birthday Pippa and Clementine  _ banner hung over a table laden with party food and covered in a tablecloth upon which rainbow unicorns frolicked. There were several, large tissue paper decorations which looked like oversized pygmy puffs hanging from the ceiling and every surface seemed to be embellished with something in a rainbow shade. 

“Well, we let the girls decorate,” Teddy shrugged. 

“It’s very nice,” Scorpius commented politely. 

“It’s surprisingly… quiet.” Albus placed the presents from them both on the table as he shrugged his coat off and looked around at the decorated living room.

“That’s because all the kids aren’t here yet,” Teddy laughed, placing a plate of iced cupcakes beside the presents Albus had just put down. 

“How many are coming?” Scorpius asked, looking thrilled at the thought of a large bunch of over excited four-year-olds. Albus thought Scorpius would probably last longer than he did, and he was the one who’d had a full night’s sleep. 

“We’re expecting nine altogether. Bit less than we invited but, well, you know.” Teddy shared a very serious look with Scorpius who looked equally sincere as he nodded in understanding. 

“Where are the girls now?” Albus couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that neither of the girls had come rushing to greet him like they usually did. 

“Outside with Freya,” Teddy answered.

Albus blinked at him. “Who?” 

“She’s our nanny,” Victoire explained, coming through from the kitchen. 

“You know,” Scorpius said, giving him a nudge.

Albus did not know.

“You hired a nanny?” Albus could hear the disbelief in his own voice. 

Teddy and Victoire parented the girls in a unique way, involving lots of very specific language and ways of phrasing things. More than once, Albus had been caught out when babysitting the girls, because he’d said the wrong thing and confused them. He wasn’t supposed to say  _ don’t do that _ , instead always communicating in the affirmative, but Albus nearly always forgot. There was no denying that Teddy and Victoire were excellent parents; the girls were polite, well-behaved and sweet almost all of the time. 

But it was certainly very particular to their family. Albus was surprised they’d let someone else into their kids’ lives in such a permanent way. 

“Now I’m back at work full time, it made the most sense,” Victoire chatted. “We thought about sending them to muggle school…” She trailed off and exchanged a look with Teddy. 

“But we weren’t convinced that was best for them,” Teddy finished diplomatically. 

Albus hid a smile, picturing the twins in a classroom full of muggle children. No doubt, they’d have a circle of fascinated children surrounding them while Clementine morphed into a mermaid and back again, with Pippa singing a song about it or something. Yes, the twins at muggle school was just asking for a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. 

“She’s here five days a week, she takes the girls to Quidditch and ballet and yoga and they just adore her.” Victoire reached for Teddy’s hand. “And so do we. You have to meet her! She’s outside now with the girls, go on.” 

Albus sucked in a breath and tried to keep himself in check; it was unreasonable to feel jealous of the twins’ nanny. 

“Well I’ll just pop outside and say hello,” Albus said, trying to sound casual and off-handed. 

Scorpius gave him a rather knowing look which he pointedly ignored, pushing open the back door where he was immediately met with a dramatic shrieking voice.

“Who will save me from this horrible two-headed dragon? Oh I am a poor princess!” 

A very blonde girl wearing a tiara stood at the top of the slide while the girls eagerly climbed up behind her, Pippa making roaring sounds and Clementine gnashing her teeth. 

“Hold on!” the girl cried, “I’m a  _ warrior  _ princess and I can save myself! See ya, dragon!” 

She pulled the tiara from her head, cast it aside and threw herself down the slide, shooting down it and somehow managing to smoothly roll across the grass, landing at Albus’ feet. The twins whizzed down after her.

“Oh, hello,” the girl said, dusting her hands on her dungarees and smiling up at Albus. She had a smudge of grass on her cheekbone and her pale blonde hair was pulled into a gradually descending ponytail. 

“Uncle Al’s off the beach!” 

Pippa spotted him and threw herself at his legs while Clementine spun around on the spot in excitement. “Uncle Al is here!” she said passionately.

The blonde girl stuck a hand out, even though she was still sitting on the grass. “I’m Freya.” 

“Albus,” he replied, attempting to shake her offered hand with Pippa firmly attached to his lower half.

“That’s Uncle Al!” Clementine said importantly. 

Pippa was still clinging to his waist. He leant down and scooped her up under the arms, sitting her on his hip. He pretended to almost fall over with her weight. “Woah, you feel like you turned five today!”

“I am five!” Pippa said proudly, and Albus smiled at her happy grin, only inches from his own. “Do you like my princess dress, Uncle Al?” 

If Albus was being honest, Pippa’s outfit wasn’t something he would have described as a  _ princess dress.  _ It was more like a cross between tiny auror robes and a ripped Quidditch uniform. 

“Wow, Pip! You look beautiful. Like a real princess.” He kissed her on the nose. 

Pippa beamed. ”I’m a  _ warrior  _ princess.” She leant back in his arms to survey Albus’ own outfit. “You are a pretty gorilla princess.” 

“Who are you calling a gorilla?! Is it my beard?” Albus tickled her and she giggled. “Do you like my shoes? I got them especially for your party.” 

He lifted one foot and wiggled his toes, almost toppling off balance with Pippa in his arms and steadying himself. She peered at the floral patterned boots on his feet and her eyes widened. 

“Wow, Uncle Al! You have the prettiest shoes  _ ever!”  _

“Why, thank you.” Albus pretended to bow. “Scorpy says I’ll never wear them after today but what does he know?”

Pippa nodded sincerely. “All the flowers on your shoes are so important. I think I would like flowers on my shoes, to go with my warrior princess dress.” 

“Is Clementine’s the same?” Albus asked, knowing what the answer would be, glancing over at Pippa’s twin. She was tugging on the blonde girl’s hand - Albus had already forgotten her name - her own outfit identical to her sister’s. 

“Clementine’s the same as me in  _ everything.  _ We have the same birthday today because we’re  _ twins _ !” she spoke emphatically, as if maybe Albus didn’t know that. 

“Hold on, you and Clemmie are  _ twins _ ?” Albus asked in astonishment. 

“Silly Uncle Al.” Pippa gently poked his cheek and wriggled down from his arms, racing after her sister and shrieking delightedly.

“She’s starting to get my jokes,” Albus sighed slightly wistfully, turning to the twins’ nanny, who he’d so far spoken just two words to. He stuck his hand out properly this time. “I’m Albus. Teddy’s my brother, sort of.”

He knew he’d introduced himself before but as he’d already forgotten her name, it seemed like a good idea to do it again.

The girl smiled widely and shook his hand. “Freya Everfall. Do you remember me from school? I was the year above you but we played Quidditch against each other a few times.”

A cog of recognition ticked into place in Albus’ brain when he realised he  _ did  _ know who she was. Freya Everfall had been Head Girl his sixth year and he had indeed played Quidditch against her a handful of times. She’d been captain of the Hufflepuff team, he remembered now. 

“Of course, sorry, I didn’t recognise you then. Er, how are you?” 

She was interrupted from answering by the twins reappearing. 

“Where’s Scorpy?” Pippa asked innocently.

“What’s that?” Freya asked, picking Clementine up.

“My husband,” Albus replied, unable to stop a little grin taking over at the word  _ husband;  _ it had been two years and it was still exciting to him that they were married. 

“Scorpy as in  _ Scorpius Malfoy _ ? You two got married?”

“Yeah, nearly two years ago.”

“How didn’t I know that? Well, why would I have known that? I don’t know, I just feel like I would have… never mind.” 

“Me and Pippa was the bridesmaids, even though there wasn’t even no bride, just two husbandses,” Clementine explained. “I had a flower crown which was like this!” She gestured vaguely around her head. 

“I’ve seen the picture on the living room wall.” Freya hoisted her up a bit and looked at Albus. “I didn’t realise that was  _ your  _ wedding. Wow, I can’t believe you two got married. Well no, of course I can believe you two got married, but it’s just funny, you know? Not  _ funny,  _ I just mean… please shut me up any time soon.” 

Clementine covered Freya’s mouth with a giggle. 

“Thanks, Clem,” Freya said in a muffled voice. 

Albus chuckled. Anyone rambling like that just reminded him of Scorpius and he always found it incredibly endearing. 

“Where are my favourite twins?” His husband’s wonderfully familiar voice sounded from behind him and Albus spun around to see Scorpius crossing the grass, gaining the attention of both Pippa and Clementine who wriggled down from Freya’s arms and went rushing over to him.

He’d rolled the sleeves of his linen shirt up and his blonde hair was perfectly tousled in a way Albus’ simply couldn’t achieve. A beam of sunlight fell across Scorpius’ face and Albus just gazed at him for a second, having one of those  _ is this really my husband?  _ moments. At least once a day, he felt inordinately lucky that Scorpius was his, that he loved him back. 

With a twin in each arm, Scorpius crossed the rest of the way to where Albus and Freya stood. He smiled in instant recognition and gave Freya an awkward sort of hug as best he could with the girls attached to him. 

“Lovely to see you, Freya.”

As usual, Scorpius managed to be a perfect social butterfly in any given situation. 

“Likewise,  _ Scorpy _ .” She withdrew with a grin and Scorpius smiled widely, lowering the girls to the ground; Clementine went rushing off and Pippa attached herself to Scorpius’ leg. 

“How long have you worked here?”

“Only a month.” Freya shrugged, briefly turning to check what Clementine was up to. 

“I didn’t realise you’d left the ward, I thought I just hadn’t been on the same shift as you in a while.” Scorpius reached down to tuck some of Pippa’s hair behind her ear. She detached herself from him and chased after Clementine. 

“Oh, no, I did leave.” Freya started to play with her ponytail. “Just decided midwitching wasn’t for me, for now at least. I needed something at a bit of a slower pace.”

“And you came  _ here?”  _ Albus joked, gesturing to where the twins were spinning each other around at top speed. 

Freya laughed. “I know, and there was supposed to be eighteen of them here today. Their whole little Quidditch team were invited, but I think something like five kids can’t make it because of Black Cat Flu.”

Scorpius looked very serious. “Nine kids. Five are in quarantine on the ward with Stage Two and some of the others have symptoms which could be Stage One, before the whiskers come out, you know? They’re waiting to be tested before they’re allowed around other kids.” 

Albus reached out and gently touched his arm, silently reminding Scorpius that it was okay; he knew his husband felt guilty that so many children were stuck quarantined in the hospital instead of here at the party. He also knew that, despite having worked about eighty hours already that week, Scorpius felt he should be at work helping out today. That morning, he’d had to remind Scorpius that he could literally lose his job if he went to each child’s house to test them for the disease, like he’d suggested doing many times. 

Scorpius smiled and placed his hand atop Albus’. 

Freya shuddered. “It’s terrifying. One of the girls sneezes and I’m checking their cheeks for whiskers, it’s almost become a joke now.” 

“Well, you’re doing the right thing to be vigilant. That’s the only way we’ll stop this.” Scorpius looked serious and concerned and Albus tried to arrange his own face into a similar expression.

“Of course. I never even have my wand out around the girls, we’re basically magic-free. Although I know Teddy’s worried about Clementine morphing around other magical children.”

An epidemic predominantly affecting children meant this was the first Sunday Albus and Scorpius had spent together in a while. A tiny, selfish fraction of Albus had wanted his husband all to himself on his rare day off, he’d even come close to suggesting they didn’t go to the party that morning when he’d woken up in Scorpius’ arms for the first time in weeks. Usually, Scorpius was awake first and brewing Albus coffee and getting his Healer robes on and brushing his hair before the sun had even risen. But he wouldn’t have missed the twins’ birthday for anything. 

Of course Albus didn’t want the twins to catch Black Cat Flu - or for any other wizarding children to be affected - but he’d be lying if he said he wanted the epidemic to be over for any other reason than having Scorpius back. 

“Al, could you help me blow up the last of these balloons?” 

Albus was snapped out of what he realised had been a bit of a reverie by Teddy’s voice and a proffered handful of blue and yellow balloons. 

“Oh, er, of course.” He accepted the balloons and followed Teddy back into the kitchen, briefly catching Scorpius’ eye where he was still discussing BCF with Freya. 

“They’re both extremely excited,” Teddy said, a slight apologetic tone to his words. He’d pulled his wand out and was squeezing sanitising potion onto the tip.

“I’d be that excited too if it was my fifth birthday.” Albus smirked and took the wand sanitiser Teddy was offering him, reaching into his pocket for his wand.

“You okay? You seem a bit spaced out.” Teddy pointed his wand at a balloon until it was at full size, a pattern of silver stars dancing over the surface. 

“Yeah, I’m just worried about Scor. The amount of overtime he’s doing.” Albus copied him with a yellow balloon covered in spinning polka dots. “I know you already know all of this, I’m not the only one married to a Healer.”

“Vic’s department has hardly been hit though,” Teddy said with a frown. “And she’s not even based at St Mungo’s anymore. You’re allowed to complain.” 

Albus fixed him with a look. “No I’m not, he’s literally  _ saving children  _ on a daily basis.” 

“Okay, well you’re allowed to wish he didn’t have to.” 

His second balloon inflated, Albus nodded. “He knows I wish he didn’t have to. We talk about it every night.” 

Teddy mimed ticking a box in midair. “Ding ding, ten points for optimal communication go to the Potter-Malfoys.”

Albus sort of hated himself for the stupid smirk which  _ still  _ crossed his face whenever he heard  _ Potter-Malfoys. _ Teddy noticed and ruffled his hair, which Albus rolled his eyes at, immediately smoothing it back into place as best he could. 

“Daddy, I need my other tiara!” Clementine called as she bolted in through the back door, heading straight for the playroom. 

Teddy caught Albus’ eye and smiled. “Do you need help finding it?” he called back.

There was a pause and the sounds of distant rustling could be heard from the playroom before Clementine reappeared, holding the aforementioned tiara. “No! Freya told me where it was.”

She skipped off, balancing the tiara on her head as she went.

“Freya seems pretty great,” Albus commented, moving onto another balloon.

“Oh, she’s the best,” Teddy said emphatically. “It’s been brilliant for all of us. Vic’s been wanting to go full time for a while now, and then the position at the Diagon practice came up just as we met Freya anyway. It felt a bit perfect.” 

“How did you meet?” Albus asked curiously.

“Er, we advertised the position in the Prophet.” Teddy scratched the back of his neck. “Got quite a few responses, Freya was the best.”

“Well, she seems lovely.”

“She’s a godsend,” Teddy levitated all of the inflated balloons in front of him. “It’s, well, things have been a bit stressful as of late. We needed Freya as much as she needed us.” 

Albus noticed the change in his tone. “Ted, is everything okay?” 

Teddy grinned brightly. “Yeah, fine! You know how it is, with this BCF thing. I’ve got two kids, every day’s a worry. It could be way worse, those poor Hogwarts parents with their kids suddenly locked in at school, expecting them home for Easter.” He shuddered as if imagining it. “But we’re all as happy as ever.”

“Teddy,” Albus said seriously. “If you need to, you know, talk about anything, we can. Or, like, James or Dad or someone, I know I’m a bit shit.”

“You are  _ not.”  _ Teddy nudged him in the side. “That means a lot, Al. Thank you.” 

“Right.” Albus nodded stiffly. 

Teddy looked at the finished balloons with a contented nod then reached up to open a cupboard, from which he removed two mugs. “Now, we’re about to be descended upon and I haven’t had nearly enough coffee for this. Want one too?” 

* * *

The previously relatively calm garden was now filled with children running all over and shrieking their heads off. Albus faintly wondered whether he’d shrieked that much as a child; he thought hard, trying to recall memories of choosing to squeal at the literal top of his lungs. With a glass of sparkling water in one hand, he sought some temporary refuge on a patio chair beside his mum. Albus was wholly unsurprised to see that she had somehow commandeered a baby from somewhere. 

“Was I ever this deafening?” he wondered aloud, lowering himself into the chair beside her. 

Ginny thought for a second and bounced the baby about a bit. “It was hard to tell with James around.”

Albus gave her a withering look. 

They both watched a small boy standing at the top of the slide and yelling the phrase  _ silly sausage sandwiches  _ repeatedly at ear-splitting volume. 

“No, you only really screamed when you were copying your brother. You were my lovely, quiet baby.” She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair and Albus felt himself involuntarily soften into her a bit. “Until it was time to get you dressed, you hated that for some reason. You used to scream and go all rigid.”

“Maybe I didn’t like what you were dressing me in,” Albus laughed and put on an exaggerated baby voice. “ _ Really, Mum? This top with these trousers?”  _

“This coming from the boy who once wore the same elephant t-shirt for an entire summer.” 

Albus frowned. “I’d forgotten about that!” He sighed fondly, lost in the memory. “I loved that t-shirt.” 

“You even tried to wear it under your school uniform, we ended up having to hide it from you.” She wasn’t looking at him as she spoke, instead turning the baby around to face her. 

“Where did you get this?” Albus pointed at the baby with a smirk. “Do her parents know?”

“Oh, shh.” Ginny leant forward and rested her nose on the baby’s head, breathing in. “She’s still got that baby smell, I miss that.” She closed her eyes for a moment then started to talk to the baby in an exaggerated voice. “Maybe I’ll just take you home with me tonight, little Lola.” 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t most parents sort of attached to the idea of keeping their children?” 

Ginny considered his question. “Hmm, no, I would have happily taken a night off at any point from the three of you.” 

“Don’t get any ideas,” Albus’ dad appeared and took the one remaining empty seat.

“Smell her head, Harry. Go on.” 

She passed the baby across Albus and Harry took her onto his lap instead, letting the little girl sit comfortably against his chest. His expression softened and he looked from the baby to Ginny. 

“Oh.” Harry smiled. 

“Remember this?” 

“So little.”

“She’s so  _ good.” _

“I don’t remember ours ever being this good.”

“No, ours were more… spirited.”

“We make good babies though.” 

Albus looked from his mum to his dad as they made eyes at each other like he wasn’t sitting between them and cleared his throat pointedly. “Um, yes, hello. Please stop.” 

Harry jumped a bit and passed the baby back to Ginny. “Of course, this is hypothetical. Remember the sleepless nights?”

Ginny shuddered. “Potty training.” 

“Lily’s clingy phase. The time James swallowed a knut.”

“The entirety of Albus being three.” With these words, she handed the baby over to him with a faraway look. Albus uncertainly sat her on his lap where she appeared content and smiled up at him; he melted just a little bit.

“Remember when the twins were this li-” 

His parents weren’t finished lamenting. 

“The first time we discovered James’ peanut allergy.”

“The time Albus stole a time turner and accidentally erased his cousins from existence.”

“The time Lily stole a unicorn and released it into the school dungeons.” 

They both nodded sincerely. “No more babies,” Harry said firmly.

“Apart from grandbabies,” Ginny added slyly. 

Albus felt his cheeks redden immediately, as if they could somehow read his mind. He focused only on baby Lola, holding one of her hands in his and waving it around to make her laugh. “James isn’t going to give you grandbabies any time soon,” he scoffed. 

“Not James, too much of a loose canon. Lily’s starting a business. Hmm, which of our children has both an established career and is in a nice, healthy, stable  _ marriage?” _ She looked pointedly at where Albus was holding the baby. 

Albus stared her down. “The same one of your children who lives in a tiny flat in London with his  _ husband  _ who lacks a uterus to grow a baby.” He gestured to baby Lola as he spoke.

His mum stroked his hair again and then the baby’s head. “We can wait.” 

“For one of us to  _ grow  _ a uterus?” He laughed lightly. 

“Yes, chop chop.” His mum laughed too.

Albus sighed. He knew, of course, that his parents were joking, that there was no genuine pressure to rush into any decisions, but the conversations he and Scorpius had been having recently threatened to burst from him, despite their decision to keep them quiet for now. He’d always found it difficult to keep things from his mum; it felt wrong somehow. 

“Have you thought about where we’re going on holiday this year?” Albus attempted a wildly obvious subject change.

His dad let him get away with it. “We were thinking-“

“No way!” Lily had appeared as if from nowhere, both her hands on her hips. “You are  _ not  _ about to tell Albus where the holiday is before me.” She scowled at their dad and reached down to briefly hug Albus around the baby. “Hello. He wasn’t, was he?”

Albus shrugged and watched his sister toss her long hair over her shoulder, the flowing floral dress she’d chosen making her look ethereal and goddess-like, other than the offended expression she was throwing in their dad’s direction as she perched on the arm of their mum’s chair. She was wearing a pair of her usual dangly earrings - likely of her own creation - shaped like little bumblebees and they quivered absurdly with the movements of her head.

Harry sighed. “I was about to say, we were thinking of a few different places. Now the twins are five, we can travel outside of Europe and still take a Portkey.” 

Lily clapped her hands. “Oh, the possibilities!”

Albus’ mum had disengaged from the conversation and was leaning over to Albus’ lap, muttering to baby Lola and tickling her tummy.

“There’s no rush though, chances are we’ll go to Portugal again, wait until the twins are a little older.”

“No, this year!” Lily insisted. “What if Teddy and Vic have another baby? Then we’re stuck waiting  _ another  _ five years, this could be our only chance!” She turned to Albus. “We should go this year, shouldn’t we, Al?” 

Albus bit his lip. Lily had a bit of a point that this could be the last summer for a while they had no children under five. He wasn’t supposed to know, but Clementine had accidentally let slip just before Christmas that her parents were trying for another baby (she didn’t know that’s what she was telling Albus, she’d overheard their conversation and passed on that  _ Mummy and Daddy are trying so hard _ ). 

“Yeah, Lil’s right,” he said casually, like he didn’t know what he knew. “This might be the last summer we can go that far all together.” 

It was only then that Albus realised his false nonchalance had not only been spotted by his mum but misinterpreted. 

She straightened from the baby and narrowed her eyes. “Why, Albus? What plans do you have for next summer?” 

“Nothing, I have no plans,” he said too quickly.

He wanted to say something then, but he and Scorpius had agreed it was for the best they didn’t yet. 

“Well, I promised Pippa I’d play Dragons and Warrior Princesses with her again. Want my chair, Lil?” He stood up, offering the baby to Lily, who was only too happy to accept her. 

Albus ran away before either of his parents could question him further and probably get everything out of him; he and Scorpius had agreed to  _ wait. _

He found Pippa sat on the grass cross legged, grinning widely to herself. She was on her own, but looked extremely content to be so; Albus could relate, and he knew she wouldn’t mind him disturbing her quiet moment.

“Hi, Pip,” he said in a soft voice, sitting down beside her on the grass and just about managing to cross his own legs. 

“Hello,” she replied dreamily, running her fingers through the blades of grass.

They sat in contented silence, or as close to as was possible in the busy garden. Pippa was watching her sister teach three other girls a dance routine from the top of the slide, but her expression wasn’t at all wistful. She had always been quieter than Clementine, happier to be on her own, not shy, but certainly more introverted. Sometimes it didn’t feel like a coincidence that Albus was Pippa’s godfather and James was Clementine’s. 

“Are you having a nice time?” Albus asked after a few minutes of quiet. 

Pippa nodded emphatically. “Do you like my hair Uncle Al?” she asked sweetly, turning to show off the intricate braid hanging down her back. “Daddy did it this morning and me and Clemmy got the same.”

“I didn’t know you and Clem like to be the same!” Albus pretended to be shocked. 

“Yes, we always like to be the same. Except a bit not sometimes.” She climbed into his lap and sighed against him. 

“A bit not sometimes?” Albus questioned gently, wrapping an arm around her small frame.

“Sometimes she makes her face look different to me, if I make her cross. She says  _ don’t be a baby, Pippa _ and changes a thing so we aren’t twins anymore.” 

“Pip, you two are always going to be twins, even if you don’t look exactly the same. Twins don’t have to be identical.” 

“Sometimes she changes a thing and says I have to change it too,” Pippa sighed.

“But… Pippa, you can’t morph. How does she expect you to change it?” 

Pippa shrugged. “She says it when she’s angry, so her brain isn’t thinking as absolutely clearly as always, Mummy says. Sometimes, she gets so so angry that I just have to go to another place so that I don’t catch her angry,” Pippa said seriously.

“That’s… a good idea.” Albus watched her play with a handful of grass. “When I was little, sometimes, me and Uncle James would have arguments with each other and I would feel angry.”

Pippa looked confused. “You don’t  _ ever  _ get angry, Uncle Al!” 

“Yes I do, everyone does, including grown ups.”

Pippa leaned gently against him and stuck her thumb into her mouth. “What makes you angry?” 

Albus thought for a second. “When the people I love are sad, especially if I can’t fix it.” 

“You always fix me when  _ I’m  _ sad,” Pippa said with a note of finality, as if that was all that mattered. “That’s why I think you never get angry.”

Albus smiled at the little girl in his lap, who was now tracing her fingers over the flowers on his shoes. 

“Coach Cole says you’re  _ as moody as a teenage mandrake  _ but I told him that you aren’t a mandrake because those are plants and you don’t even have leaves, only hair.” Pippa reached up to play with Albus’ hair. 

“Coach Cole said that, did he?” Albus smirked. “Tell me, Pip, have you ever heard him sing?”

“Yes!” Pippa cried happily. “The teamwork song and the song about  _ swiiiiiing your bat, just like that!”  _ She performed the last words to a jaunty tune, complete with a corresponding action. 

“Is Coach Cole good at singing?”

“No,” Pippa shook her head. “He sounds like he’s a kneazle when you pull its tail and he says when we don’t help each other in a game that he’ll sing louder.” 

“Well, Cole sings a  _ lot  _ when I go out with him. That’s probably why he thinks I’m moody.” 

“Do you go out to have ice cream?” Pippa asked curiously.

“Er, sometimes ice cream,” Albus laughed, picturing the last time he’d gone for drinks with Cole and had ended up staying out until 4am. 

“Does Scorpy come too because he’s your husband?” 

“Yes, but he doesn’t eat as much ice cream as me.” Albus grinned.

At that moment, Pippa popped up like a meerkat in Albus’ lap and pointed to the open door of the house. 

“Uncle James! It’s my Uncle James!” 

James was indeed emerging from the back door and into the garden, in an irritatingly bright red t-shirt which Albus knew for a fact all the boys on Puddlemere had bought together when they were on their most recent annual trip to… somewhere in Europe. Albus couldn’t remember where. 

“Ayyyy!” 

James crouched down and held his arms out and Pippa went barrelling into them, hugging his torso tightly. 

“Happy birthday, Clementine!” James said in an overly enthusiastic voice, pretending to be really proud of himself for getting her name right. 

Pippa eyed him suspiciously. “I’m  _ Pippa!  _ Silly Uncle James.” She shook her head fondly.

He made the same joke almost every time he saw the twins, and they knew to expect it, but Albus was constantly telling James not to do it.

“You should tease him back, Pip. Call him  _ Albus _ .”

Pippa looked confused. “But that’s  _ your _ name.”

“Uncle James!” Clementine came running over and James caught her in his arms, sitting her on his hip. 

“Happy birthday!” 

Clementine not so subtly noticed the large gift bag in James’ hand. “Who’s that for?” she asked hopefully.

James smiled and placed Clementine back on the grass beside Pippa, who was jumping up and down in excitement. 

“Let’s see, Al, is it anyone’s birthday today?” He pretended to think hard.

“I can’t think of anyone at all,” Albus said pointedly, continuing the joke.

James shook his head and gave a groan of disappointment. “Aww, incorrect. It’s actually Pippa and Clem’s birthday. I win Best Uncle for today.” 

Albus rolled his eyes hard while the twins both giggled. 

“Now, I know how seriously you both take Quidditch,” James said, holding the gift bag to his chest importantly. “I think the Flint Flyer Sparrows are playing Puddlemere next week, aren’t they? I’m sure you’ll cream us. This will help you do it in style.”

The girls both laughed.

“Here you are. There’s one for each of you.” He placed the gift bag in front of them and they each dived for it. 

“What is it?” Pippa asked uncertainly, clearly a bit confused by the present: it was a large ring-shaped object with small, colourful cylinders arranged all around the edge.

“It’s amazing, watch.” James gently removed it from her hand and held it up in front of the twins. “You attach it to the back of your broom and when you fly along…” He demonstrated by pulling the object through the air quickly. “It does that!”

The  _ thing _ sprayed glitter out of each cylinder, covering the grass at the twins’ feet with a scattered layer of the stuff. The girls squealed with delight and Clementine immediately tried hers out, adding yet more glitter to the pile. 

Albus frowned and eyed his brother. “Does the glitter disappear?”

James shrugged. “Dunno, don’t think so. Why would you want it to disa-” He stopped and looked at the now sizeable pile of glitter at their feet. “Oh, yes, perhaps that’s a design flaw. I made them with Freddie but I’m sure we could tweak it to… yes, you have a point.”

He surreptitiously pulled his wand out to vanish the glitter but Albus put his hand out to stop his brother before he could cast the spell. 

“Not around the kids,” he said pointedly. “BCF. You don’t have a wand cover on.” 

James’ eyebrow shot up. “Oops.” He tucked his wand away. “I’ll get that later.”

“Thank you, Uncle James!” Pippa hugged him around the middle and her and her sister dashed off with the presents, leaving glitter in their wake.

“I’ll have a word with Teddy, take them home again tonight and fix the glitter so it vanishes,” James said quietly.

“Probably best,” Albus chuckled. “They love them, though. Great idea, that was sweet of you.”

“Thanks.” James ruffled his hair and made to walk back inside to the kitchen. “I need a drink.”

At that moment, Albus spotted their mum making a very deliberate beeline for them both, a determined look in her eye when she noticed that James was leaving Albus alone. Sensing an interrogation regarding his previous, very obvious exit, Albus hurriedly followed after his brother and into the kitchen.

James was filling a glass with water from the tap and looking slightly pained in the process, his joviality from outside completely gone.

“Er, are you okay?” Albus approached in concern.

James downed the glass of water and started to refill it. “I am so fucking hungover,” he muttered.

“James!” Albus reprimanded.

James looked around the kitchen. “What? There aren’t any sprogs around.”

“Stop calling them that.”

“Look, I like Teddy’s twins, they’re great, but, Al, there’s so  _ many  _ of them out there and they’re so  _ loud!” _

They both looked out of the window to where an incredibly rambunctious game of musical statues was taking place.

“Scorpius looks like he’s having fun,” James laughed. 

Albus’ gaze found his husband, who now had baby Lola held against his chest as they both joined in with the game of musical statues. Scorpius held one of the baby’s hands and twirled with her to the music, making a big show of freezing still when the music stopped and making the baby giggle.

“He’s great with kids,” Albus sighed, almost wistfully. 

“What?” James picked up on his tone. “You’re great with them too, Al.” 

“Not that,” Albus said quietly after a pause. “He would be such an amazing dad.” 

His heart was beating quickly, he’d already said too much. 

“One day,” Albus added quickly in what he hoped wasn’t a suspicious way. 

James’ expression cleared. “But you’re lacking in ovaries.” 

“Exactly.”

“Well I think, I  _ think,  _ Scorpius knew you were a man when he married you. So not much of a surprise there.” James laughed. “That’s a long way off though, mate.” 

“Yeah,” Albus mumbled distractedly. “A long way off…” 

“Think about it, you’ve only been married, what, two years? My mate Henrik had a baby last year and we never even see him out anymore. Changes everything, the baby thing.”

“You mean because most parents wouldn’t come to something like this hungover?” Albus laughed. 

“Precisely,” James said weakly for effect. “Besides, you don’t have space for a baby in that little flat with all your potion rubbish.” He grinned. “Sorry,  _ equipment.”  _

“No, of course we don’t,” Albus said off-handedly. “I’m being hypothetical,” he lied. 

Almost as if he could sense Albus needed saving, Scorpius stepped into the kitchen and instantly came up to Albus with an urgent expression. 

“Love, I’m sorry.” He took both of Albus’ hands. “The ward just sent a patronus, Kiera’s gone into labour and we just don’t know how it’s going to go. They need me. I’m so sorry. I’ve just said goodbye to the twins and apologised to Vic.” 

Albus released one of his hands and reached up to tuck Scorpius’ longer hair behind his ear, admiring the way its slight wave fell perfectly over the curve of his brow. “Okay, no need to be sorry. You were always going to have to be there for that birth.”

Scorpius pulled a face; he looked worried. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” Scorpius kissed him on the forehead. “Save me some birthday cake.” 

“Will do,” Albus laughed weakly and watched his husband leave for the Floo, a crushing sense of disappointment filling his every vein as he achingly pictured the night he’d imagined they would have together. He stroked his beard and tried to quell the sudden sadness filling his chest.

“Well that’s the worst,” James said dryly. 

“It’s not his fault,” Albus said defensively. 

James held his hands up innocently. “Didn’t say it was.” 

“It’s just the way things have to be for now. He has to go in and that’s that, it’s his job.” Albus wasn’t sure if he was talking to James or just to himself at this point.

James seemed to have tuned out a bit anyway, peering out of the window again. “Oh, the girls are showing Teddy the present.” 

“He looks thrilled,” Albus laughed. They could see Teddy’s eyes widen at the amount of glitter covering his shoes and Albus clearly saw him say something about not taking them inside the house. 

“Excellent, that’s what I was going for.” James looked pleased, leaving the kitchen with a huge grin, his hangover no longer apparent.

Albus was just about to go back outside and join the party again, smiling through his disappointment at Scorpius having to go, when the door opened abruptly. 

“Albus,” Lily burst in accusingly, brandishing a sheaf of parchment, “why have you got all these architect plans for a four bedroom house in your bag?” 

Albus felt his cheeks flush. “Why are you looking through my bag?” 

“I wasn’t, I was rescuing your bag from becoming a prop in a game of Merpeople and Kelpies and it fell out. Are you and Scorpius moving house?” 

Albus groaned and buried his face in his hands, wearily pushing his hair back from his face, nodding silently. Lily squeaked in excitement, starting up a spiel about house plants and south-facing windows and Albus wondered what it was like to have a family who weren’t this nosy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! I am so excited that the first chapter is now out there! i'd love to hear your thoughts - questions? predictions? let me know!
> 
> find me on tumblr: littlerose13writes  
> and instagram @littlerose13writes (I'm posting a playlist for this fic on there if that's your thang!) 
> 
> massive huge thanks to Trolley B/StaircaseScorpius for being such an excellent alpha throughout and to Sarah/roonilbwazlib for the endless support, this fic wouldn't be here without you! <3


	3. Chapter 2 - Sugar and Slander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist: [Take Care of Yourself - Maisie Peters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IryrsgoAjjA)

Exhausted and full of emotion, Scorpius watched his workplace disappear in a whirl of green flames, only to be replaced with the darkened interior of the living room. He wasn’t all that surprised to see Albus still awake, curled up on the sofa under a soft, tartan blanket with his glasses on and a muggle pen in his hand. Music played softly and Albus scratched away at some parchment; sketching, most likely. 

He glanced up at Scorpius and simply gave him a soft smile, peeling the blanket back and beckoning Scorpius into the space beside him. 

Scorpius didn’t need telling twice, falling down onto the sofa and burying his face into Albus’ neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

“Your hair smells like bonfire,” he observed. 

“We roasted marshmallows on the beach after all the girls’ friends had gone home,” Albus replied, putting his sketchbook to one side and pushing his glasses up onto his head. 

Scorpius frowned. “I’m sorry to have missed it.” 

“It’s okay, everyone understands.” Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ shoulders, cradling him against his chest, and Scorpius just melted into him.

“Thank you,” Scorpius whispered into the soft collar of Albus’ pyjama top. 

“What happened?” Albus asked after a pause, his tone hushed. 

“Well, you know how Kiera’s baby was my-“

“Your high risk case. I remember,” Albus finished softly. “And Kiera went into labour this afternoon.”

Scorpius often thought Albus did much better at remembering the details of his job on the ward than Scorpius did at recalling the intricacies of whichever potion Albus was developing.

“Did something happen to the baby?” Albus pressed gently. 

Scorpius shook his head. “Baby isn’t born yet. She’s not that far along, they made me go home and sleep so I could be on top form when she does arrive.” He pouted; he wanted to be there _now,_ even though he was so tired his eyes were closing. 

“Good advice, that,” Albus stroked his hair which did nothing to prevent Scorpius from feeling as drowsy as he did. 

“Albus.” Scorpius raised his head with great difficulty and looked his husband in the eye. “I just have this feeling Baby’s going to have it.” 

“Come on, Scor, we’ve talked about this,” Albus said gently. “Yes, the chances of that baby being born with BCF are higher, but you’re prepared for that to be the case.”

“What if a fetal case presents challenges we haven’t anticipated? What if…” he stopped, unable to even voice his biggest fear for the baby. 

“You need sleep, love. You’re dangerously tired.” Albus pulled him to his feet, draping the tartan blanket around him like a cloak. He started to lead Scorpius to their bedroom. 

“They’ll call for me if there are complications with the birth,” he explained fruitlessly.

“And until then, you sleep,” Albus said simply, using his wand to light one of the lamps in their bedroom. “Have you eaten?” 

Scorpius shook his head wordlessly.

“I’m warming you up some soup. Get ready for bed.” Albus kissed him on the cheek and left the room, leaving Scorpius clutching the tartan blanket. 

He fumbled around, taking his shoes off and levitating his work robes into the laundry basket, throwing on some approximation of pyjamas which ended up being one of Albus’ t-shirts. All the while, his brain cycled through everything which could be going wrong on his ward right that very second. That little baby could be fighting for its life for all he knew, but he shook his head firmly. It was important to remain professional here and remember that he trusted his colleagues to contact him if they needed him to be there too. 

Albus appeared in the doorway with a tray hovering in front of him. He lowered it gently onto Scorpius’ lap and grinned. There was a bowl of what looked like Albus’ homemade butternut squash soup, a mug of Scorpius’ favourite cinnamon and rose petal tea and a slice of cake sandwiched with pink icing.

“The twins insisted you got that piece,” Albus chuckled, hopping up onto the bed beside him. “It’s the unicorn’s arse.” 

“Lovely,” Scorpius laughed in spite of himself. 

Albus sighed and reached out to take Scorpius’ hand. “It’ll be alright. Whatever comes, you’ll face it as bravely as you always do.” 

Scorpius squeezed his hand and smiled at his sweet husband. “Thank you, Albus.” He took a spoonful of soup and sighed. “What were you sketching?” 

“Oh, nothing much. Playing with some new ideas but I don’t love any of them yet.” He rubbed at the top of his left arm, the space Scorpius knew he was planning to fill next with a new tattoo. 

“Show me tomorrow?” 

“If you want to see.” Albus paused. “Do you know when you might be back?” 

Scorpius ate more soup to stall giving the answer he knew Albus was expecting anyway. “Probably late. I’m in at the normal time unless Kiera’s baby comes before, I’ll try my best to get out on time.” 

“Just do what you can.” Albus rested his head on Scorpius’ shoulder as he finished the soup. 

He transferred the mug of tea to the coaster on the bedside table and smiled at the slice of cake, picking up the fork Albus had laid beside it. 

“Share this with me?”

“Was hoping you’d say that.” Albus grinned and removed another fork from his pocket. 

* * *

He’d slept restlessly, half expecting a patronus from the hospital to wake him at any moment, but he’d made it to the morning without hearing anything and now here he was. Scorpius urgently pressed his wand against the sensor to gain access to the staff entrance. The sun had only just peeked above the horizon and the weak morning light outside was a stark contrast to the overly bright interior of the hospital. Scorpius blinked for a second. 

“Good morning, Scorpius.”

“Morning, Beks.” He smiled wearily at the midwitch he often worked with who was clocking out. “How are things?”

“You’ll see,” she smiled knowingly and Scorpius stopped short at her expression.

He hadn’t been called in the night, but he’d just assumed Kiera was experiencing a particularly long labour. No news wasn’t good news in this situation, it was just no news. But Beks’ expression implied perhaps there _was_ good news, Scorpius couldn’t even dare hope. She was probably just happy to be going home after a long night shift. 

Still, this reasonable doubt didn’t take away from the excited feeling building in him as he stepped onto the neonatal ward. _His_ ward. 

He’d not even taken two steps inside when he was waylaid by Isla, the Healer he was taking over from. She grabbed his forearms and grinned ecstatically. 

“Totally and completely fine, healthy, _wonderful!”_

Scorpius felt like his head was spinning; he actually held onto the wall for support. There was no way everything could have gone that smoothly, was there? 

“You’re joking!” His eyes flickered straight to the direction of the door behind which were all his patients. 

“He’s not even here. He’s with Mum in maternity,” Isla chatted casually, pulling her wand out from her robes pocket to start cleaning it. 

“It’s a boy.” Scorpius stood rooted to the spot in surprise, both hands going straight to his hair in anguished relief. “I just assumed he hadn’t arrived yet when you didn’t call, but _nothing?_ Any complications?”

Isla shook her head, tiny sparks emitting from her wand as she cleaned it. “Smooth as a whistle. Baby was born at 4:26, declared BCF free by 4:36.”

“So Mum got skin to skin,” Scorpius said weakly in relief, starting to clean his own wand. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” 

Isla nodded happily and folded her arms. “You were right to be worried, though. I think your extra precautions might have been what saved him.” 

The baby in question had been the highest risk they’d had since the beginning of the BCF debacle. All the babies currently on Scorpius’ ward were at high risk; being born in the middle of an epidemic was a risky time to be a magical child. But Kiera had two children already, and both had contracted Stage Two Black Cat Flu while she was pregnant. They’d caught it and quarantined the children in what should have been plenty of time, but the fear that the new baby would be born with some form of fetal BCF had been consuming Scorpius for weeks. He’d cried about it more than once late at night, curled up against Albus.

Scorpius finished cleaning his wand but he wasn’t ready to step into the ward. “I need to go and see them.” 

“I know. It really is a see it to believe it type moment.” Isla peered through the window into the ward. “Go up to maternity now, I can stay here a bit longer. Go and see them.” 

“Are you sure?” Scorpius bit his lip. “You’ve been on all night.” 

“Of course, you’ll only be thinking about them all shift otherwise.” 

“Thanks, Isla.” Scorpius nodded hurriedly and took the opposite door out of the ward office, back out into the main corridor. 

The short walk to maternity was long enough for Scorpius’ anxiety to convince him that he was going to step into maternity to find the place in a state of panic, that there’d been a mistake, that the new baby had been born with BCF and had infected everyone else on the maternity ward with an unheard of newborn magical outburst. Every step quickened his breath and he made a point to breathe deeply and recognise that his mind was inventing this story. He had control over his mind; the story could be rewritten. 

Scorpius caught the eye of the receptionist who waved him into the maternity ward with barely a blink. As he stepped in, the ward seemed fairly quiet, calm, a few people milled about the occupied beds and there were some faint cries of newborns. A midwitch stepped to one side and Scorpius recognised Kiera in an instant, but she’d already seen him coming. Her wide beam made Scorpius’ heart soar. 

“I hoped you’d be back. Can you believe it?” she said shakily.

Kiera looked exhausted but healthy, the newborn bundled in her arms and laying against her chest. Scorpius could see a tiny fist emerging from the blanket as he got closer. 

“I only have a few minutes, but I had to see you both.” He approached her bedside and peered down at the baby’s head. “How are the two of you doing?”

“He’s _perfect,”_ Kiera breathed, leaning back so Scorpius could see the baby. “Here, this is Henry.” 

She adjusted the baby and made to pass him over to Scorpius, who was only too willing to accept. He took the warm weight of the newborn into his arms and held him close, still not quite able to believe this was the high risk case he’d been losing sleep over.

“Well, little Henry, as cute as you are, I must say I’m very pleased you won’t be coming to live on my ward.” He made exaggerated faces at the baby then glanced up at Kiera again. “You’re a hero.” 

Kiera winced. “Everyone who told me the third one’s the easiest is a big fat liar.” 

Scorpius chuckled. “Have Daisy and Macie met him yet?” 

“Rory went home to get them,” she smiled. 

Holding the baby with one arm, Scorpius reached for the information chart to the side of the bed and ran his eyes over the record of the birth. Henry was at a healthy weight and length and Isla had been spot on, Scorpius thought as he read: _time of birth, 4:26am, BCF test administered 4:35am, no outcome recorded 4:36am._

“It’s almost a miracle,” Scorpius said as he replaced the chart and adjusted the baby in his arms. The little baby gaped his mouth open a few times and nuzzled into Scorpius’ front. “Oh, you’re hungry. How’s feeding been?” 

Kiera smiled as Scorpius handed the baby back. “He’s taken to it quicker than my other two did.” She settled him across her chest and began to nurse. “Of course we aren’t using any charms, as you know. I’m not risking it after Daisy and Macie.”

In the current medical climate, parents were being encouraged to keep their children _magic-free_. It meant not using spells directly on the child for any purpose; BCF was passed on through the sharing of magic and those without wands (young children mainly) were the most susceptible. 

“Well done.” Scorpius smiled at the baby in Kiera’s arms.

“Thank you, Healer Scorpius. Thank you for taking such good care of me and my baby.” She sincerely held onto his hand and squeezed, her lips pressed together.

“It was a pleasure.” Scorpius felt a bubble of pride rise up within him. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

The joy Scorpius was feeling followed him all the way back to his own ward where he cleaned his wand again for good measure and relieved Isla, walking almost directly into his boss.

“I heard the good news about Kiera, Scorpius,” his boss, Ruth, said slyly. “However will you use all of your resultant free time now?” 

It was sometimes difficult to tell when Ruth was being sarcastic because she rarely varied her expression, regardless of her mood. It had thrown Scorpius completely when he’d first started working in her department but it had been a pleasant surprise to find that his boss actually held a secretive, dry humour most of the time. 

“I’m sure I’ll find something to do around here,” Scorpius chuckled, slipping a protective cover over his wand.

“I need you on testing first thing, please. Smash are sending twelve students today, four final years, two firsts.”

“Got it,” Scorpius nodded and checked his watch. “I’ll make my rounds quick then.” 

He had around fifteen minutes before he was scheduled to be out in the general paediatric department, helping test children for BCF. It was plenty of time to say a quick good morning to all his patients, even though a ‘quick good morning’ wasn’t really Scorpius’ style at all. Most of them were in quarantine, which took longer than fifteen minutes to even prepare to enter, but he had three babies who weren’t on the ward for BCF reasons.

“Good morning, Benjamin.” 

The little boy beamed at Scorpius and started to wave his arms about in excitement. 

“Hi, hi, hi!” he chorused.

“You’re cheerful this morning,” Scorpius commented, quickly taking his temperature with a spell. It was within a normal range, which Scorpius had expected; Benjamin’s mood was certainly indicating that he was recovering as they’d hoped. 

“He seems more like himself today, I reckon,” Benjamin’s dad said, with a glance in Scorpius’ direction. “He slept good too. Didn’t wake up for most of the night.” 

“Benjamin, you’re such a good sleeper.” Scorpius tickled him under the chin then reached for the toy penguin Benjamin liked to sleep with. “Good morning, Professor Penguin. Did you sleep _all night_ in your bed with Benjamin?” 

Benjamin giggled at Scorpius and reached for Professor Penguin. “Pino!” 

He swiped the penguin and toddled off, clutching it to his body and depositing it on the floor at his dad’s feet. Scorpius took the opportunity to check his dose and response chart. 

“Oh no, the potion made him sick last night?” Scorpius frowned at the information recorded by one of his colleagues the night before. 

“Ah.” Benjamin’s dad looked a bit sheepish. “My sister and her kids, Benji’s cousins, came to visit yesterday. We found them secretly feeding him fizzing whizzbees, see.” 

Scorpius laughed lightly. “That would explain it, but who can resist those fizzing whizzbees?” 

“Healer Bannister weren’t very impressed,” Benjamin’s dad grinned and Scorpius could picture the exact stoic expression Ruth would have had on her face.

“It hasn’t done him any harm.” Scorpius gestured to Benjamin’s chipper self then glanced back at the dose chart. “Let’s see, he’s not had this morning’s potion yet so I can give that to him now.” 

Benjamin’s dad chatted to Scorpius as he prepared the dose of Dragon Pox cure.

“There’s a bloke in Cara’s office who had Dragon Pox as a kid, bit older than Benj I think, but he’s got that green thing still. Don’t like to mention it, ya know? He’s a nice bloke, Jeremy, just… well, green.” He picked Benjamin up and sat him on his lap for the potion. “We’re right lucky that potion got reinvented for our Benji, take my hat off to whoever it was who did that.”

Scorpius grinned, filling a syringe with Benjamin’s potion. “Actually, it was my husband.” 

“It was never?” Benjamin’s dad looked impressed. “Right brainy pair you two are. You should have a kid, take over the world.” 

“Open wide, Benjamin,” Scorpius instructed, inserting the syringe into the little boy’s mouth. “Well, maybe one day,” Scorpius responded to Benjamin’s dad with a light shrug. 

The potion delivered, Scorpius left Benjamin in the capable hands of one of the Healer nurses on his ward. Benjamin waved sweetly and his dad gave a thumbs up, which Benjamin adorably tried to copy, instead just sticking one finger up in the air. 

“Scorpius, paediatrics, testing, Smash students.” Ruth walked past briskly and tapped at her watch. 

Scorpius frowned slightly at her retreating figure; he still had eight minutes. “Just got to check on my preemies!” he called in explanation.

Ruth nodded distractedly and was gone seconds later. Scorpius sighed and, feeling a bit like he’d just been told off, headed in the direction of his other two long term patients. 

The first was fast asleep. Essie was only three weeks old, and so far she’d lived the majority of her life inside a magical incubator after being born too early. The incubator simulated her mother’s womb so that Essie could develop her magic to the point where it was safe enough that she wasn’t at risk of dangerous outbursts. 

“Good morning, little Essie,” Scorpius whispered through the bubble-like surface of her incubator as he waved his wand and checked her vitals. “Look at you, putting on weight like a little champion. Mummy and Mumma are going to be so proud of you. Let’s see, temperature looks good, oh!” Scorpius couldn’t help clutching at his heart a bit. “You smiled for me.” 

It put a spring in his step all the way to his other early baby, Charlotte, who was out for her daily hold, bundled up in a blanket against her mum’s chest. A Healer nurse was monitoring Charlotte’s heart rate, her wand pressed lightly to the baby’s back, and both she and Charlotte’s mum looked up when Scorpius approached. 

“Good morning, Healer Potter-Malfoy,” Charlotte’s mum said reverently. She always spoke to Scorpius that way, with great esteem, even though he always asked his patients’ families to call him Scorpius. He supposed that performing life saving surgery on her daughter the day she was born had earned him an excess of respect, even though he’d just been doing his job. 

“Good morning, hello little Charlotte.” Scorpius stroked the top of her hair lightly. “Aw, you’re sleeping.”

He performed a quick charm to check Charlotte’s vital statistics which hovered in the air in front of them. Satisfied that she was where she should be, and that her heart rate was within a normal range, he said goodbye to them both.

With all his patients greeted, Scorpius let a couple of Healer nurses know where he’d be and made the walk for the second time that day out of the neonatal ward and towards the centre of the paediatric department. A whole room had been designated just for BCF testing with a strict appointment schedule. The department was employing a welcome witch purely to schedule and oversee the children coming in for the test. 

“Here’s today’s schedule.” The welcome witch handed Scorpius a clipboard and he smiled in thanks.

He ran his eyes over the schedule and looked back up at the welcome witch in concern. “These are all just for this morning?” 

“Afraid so,” she shrugged. 

“Gosh, I know the department want us to test as many at risk children as quickly as possible but I’m not sure we can get through this many in one morning.” 

The welcome witch gave him a sympathetic look. “If it lowers the number of children in quarantine, though.”

“Oh, of course it’s more than worth it!”

“I wish I could pop in there too and help you out,” she joked.

Scorpius gave a short laugh and took the schedule away with him, frowning and rapidly starting to decide where he would dispatch his Smash students. 

At present, the test spell for BCF could only be administered by a trained Healer at the hospital itself, but due to the demand of the crisis, Healing students were being brought in to administer the tests too. Scorpius would be spending his morning both supervising them and testing children himself to confirm whether their symptoms were Stage One BCF or something innocuous like a common cold. 

He quickly assigned the twelve students where he needed them to be, pairing up the first years with the final years, before pinning the clipboard up to the wall and taking on the next name on the list himself. 

_Betsy Jones, age 7._

Scorpius scanned his eyes over the form Betsy’s parent had filled in, listing her current symptoms and he shook his head in concern; it didn’t look good on paper. 

“Betsy?” he said tentatively to the waiting room, and a young witch wearing muggle jeans stood up and held her hand out to the little girl beside her.

“That’s us, Bets.” She chewed gum as she spoke and the little girl took her hand, both of them following Scorpius back into the room and behind the curtain that Scorpius would be using for tests.

“How are you doing today?” Scorpius asked politely as Betsy sat down beside her mum.

“She’s a bit nervous,” the mum hissed in a stage whisper, covering her daughter’s ears. The little girl rolled her eyes but gave Scorpius a very serious look as she bit her lip.

“Will it hurt?” 

“Nope, you’ll just feel a bit of a cold tingle, but you need to sit very, very still for me. Can you do it?” 

The girl sneezed then nodded, holding herself determinedly still. 

“Okay, ready?” Scorpius raised his wand, preparing to cast the complicated charm pattern. The second he started to move his wand, the little girl pulled away and hid in her mother’s chest. Scorpius gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Come on, Betsy. Do you want to look at your magazine?” the mother urged, peeling her daughter away from her. “Here, you read the story and let the nice Healer do the charm.” 

She withdrew a Quidditch magazine from her bag and flicked through it, seemingly looking for a certain page. She settled on one and handed the open magazine to Betsy, who took it wordlessly and obediently looked down at the page. 

Scorpius grinned when he saw what was in the magazine. “Do you like the Holyhead Harpies, Betsy?”

“Oh yes!” Betsy cried happily. “Thea Jordan is my favourite ever, ever!” 

Beginning the charm pattern while she was distracted worked, as Betsy passionately explained why Thea was her favourite Harpy for a solid few minutes and barely noticed Scorpius casting the test spell. 

“Thea is always working on her game to get better and better. She says _you can never stop growing_ and that’s actually right and-“ Betsy gave a huge shudder as Scorpius finished the charm. “Cold.” 

“Sorry, nearly done!” Scorpius patted her on the shoulder. “Can I tell you something, Betsy?” 

The light emitting from Scorpius’ wand gathered into a ball in front of them both, swirling and flashing as it scanned through Betsy’s body. She nodded and shivered several times as the charm sent cool tingles all over. 

“Thea Jordan is one of my very best friends.” 

Betsy’s jaw dropped and she stopped shivering. “You know _Thea Jordan?!”_

“I do! We were Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts together.”

“That is _so cool!”_ Betsy gazed at him in awe. 

“You see, Bets, if you keep working hard then that could be you one day. Head Girl of Hogwarts,” her mum clutched at her heart. “The Head Girl in my year was a right snooty-pants. Cordelia Lark her name was.”

Her mum continued to reminisce aloud about Cordelia Lark while Scorpius finished the charm and waited for the results to process. Betsy rolled her eyes at her mum and, when she saw Scorpius was watching, giggled. 

The glowing ball of light which had made its way through Betsy’s magical system materialised in front of them both, taking on a new pattern. Scorpius examined it carefully, his heart sinking as the familiar shadowed section confirmed the news he hated delivering. 

“Alright, that’s your result. Now, if you look at this shadow here,” Scorpius pointed it out to Betsy and her mum, “that’s an indicator that the magical system is infected. Given Betsy’s other symptoms, it looks to me like this is a Stage One case of BCF.”

“I said it would be! Everyone told me I was paranoid bringing her in for a sniffle, and now look.” Her mum looked strangely proud of herself. 

“Has she had any contact with any other children since her symptoms started? Are there other children at home?” 

“No, she doesn’t have any brothers or sisters and I haven’t let her play with the neighbours’ kids since Monday when she started sneezing.”

“That’s good. As far as we know, the children are not contagious before symptoms start to show but it would be a good idea to inform the parents of any children Betsy might have been in contact with in the last week or so. She could have passed on infected magic without anyone realising.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let them know,” Betsy’s mum said hurriedly. 

“She needs to stay away from any other children while she takes the potion, which takes seven days. And of course, don’t use any magic on or near Betsy.”

Her mum nodded. “What’s got to happen now, then?” 

“I can administer your first dose of potion today, Betsy. It’s a tincture of Granian hair and it works to kill the disease in your magical system.” He addressed her mum too. “Then she needs to take it for six more days, approximately every five hours. It does mean you might have to wake her up in the night. The bottle will beep when she’s due another dose, there’s a full course in there. The symptoms should clear twenty-four hours from completing the course, but if they don’t, or if any whiskers appear, it’s important you come straight back in.” 

“But I’m going to be okay?” Betsy asked in a small voice.

“You’re going to be completely fine!” Scorpius said insistently, kicking himself for not making that clear enough to her. “Here, this is for Mum to read, and I’ll go and get you the potion.” 

Leaving an information pamphlet in Betsy’s mum’s hands, Scorpius went to retrieve a dose of the Granian hair potion. At this early stage of the disease, Betsy should make a full recovery without the need for quarantine, as long as her mum took the necessary precautions at home. On his way to collecting the potion, Scorpius was waylaid by a student who wanted a second opinion on a child’s test results (he agreed there was nothing there to worry about) and he passed one of the first years, who was in deep conversation with a parent.

It wasn’t until he was back and administering Betsy’s potion that the nature of the conversation began to become apparent as it infiltrated the curtain they were behind. As Scorpius picked up on the tension emanating from the conversation, he quickly delivered the rest of Betsy’s potion and prepared to help out.

The student’s voice floated over and caught Scorpius’ attention. “Give me a second to speak to my supervisor, please.” 

“Bear with me a minute,” Scorpius assured Betsy and her mum, stepping out from the curtain they were behind.

One of the first year students was approaching him with a slightly panicked expression on her face. Scorpius jerked his head towards the office door open nearby and quickly followed her inside.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly.

“Er, well, I might be wrong, but…” She bit her lip nervously. 

“What is it?” Scorpius pressed. 

“It’s just, that lady out there, with the little girl, well, she doesn’t have any symptoms. But she wants the test administered anyway.” 

“The test is for children displaying one or more potential symptoms of Stage One BCF,” Scorpius rattled off the party line automatically. “The welcome witch should have told her that when she returned the form?” 

“That’s the thing.” The student was still chewing her lip. “On the form, she ticked all of the symptoms. But the little girl has none of them! She lied so she could get a testing slot. She said it was her right to know if her daughter had BCF, that our protocol was putting children at risk.” 

Scorpius took a deep breath to calm himself at that accusation. 

“Let me speak to her. Can you sit with Betsy while she takes her potion?” 

“Yes, thank you.” The student looked relieved. 

He stepped back out into the room, found the student’s curtained section and approached the irate parent, who was sighing loudly and tapping her foot. 

“Good morning, I’m Healer Potter-Malfoy.” Scorpius extended his hand to shake hers but she did not respond. He let his hand fall to his side awkwardly. 

“My daughter deserves to be tested,” she said coldly. 

“The test is for children displaying one or more symptoms of Stage One BCF,” Scorpius said automatically. “Do you have any concerns about your daughter?” 

“ _Concerns?_ Of course I’ve bloody well got concerns, she’s living through a dangerous epidemic which _your_ rules are doing nothing to help. _Three_ children she sometimes plays with have got it. Why will you not test my daughter for this hideous disease?” 

Scorpius took a collecting breath. Privately, he agreed with this irate witch, and wished he could test her daughter, but it went against their policy. He wasn’t allowed to.

“If she’s not displaying any symptoms, then she doesn’t have BCF. The test is unnecessary, I won’t put needless stress on a child’s magical system,” Scorpius said firmly. 

“She could have it and not show any symptoms, I read all about it in last week’s Wandbook.”

“There’s only evidence of that being the case in adults with full control over their magic,” Scorpius said calmly. 

“Jobsworth,” the witch muttered. 

Scorpius bit down hard on the inside of his lip and squeezed his thumb inside his hand, reminding himself not to take her words personally and that he was doing the right thing. 

“I can assure you that we can administer the test if she does display any symptoms which concern you.”

“You don’t need to,” the witch spat nastily. “I’m taking her to The Ivy Clinic. They’ll do the test, because they actually listen to people there.”

_Because they’ll give you anything you want for the hundreds of galleons you’ll be paying them,_ Scorpius thought to himself. He had many exasperations with The Ivy Clinic, a private healthcare provider who seemed to care more about making money than truly ethical practice. 

“The decisions you make for the wellbeing of your child are down to you,” Scorpius said diplomatically. 

“This is why you lot are always in the Prophet these days,” she said with narrowed eyes, picking her daughter up where she clung tightly and flouncing from the room. 

Scorpius didn’t know what she meant by that but he didn’t have time to think about it too much. Despite wanting nothing more than to sit in silence for fifteen minutes and process everything that had just happened, Scorpius had people relying on him: both patients and students. So he stepped back into the office, took three deep breaths, thought of Albus’ hugs, swallowed hard and put on a brave face to go out and continue testing. 

* * *

As Scorpius’ week went on, his non-BCF patients continued to do well. Essie was gaining weight steadily and was almost ready to be taken out of her incubator for daily holds; Benjamin’s Dragon Pox was responding well to the cure potion; Charlotte continued to be stable. But it was the babies in quarantine, under his care for contracting Stage Two Black Cat Flu in their infancy, that concerned him most.

Every time Scorpius prepared to enter quarantine, he would be faced with a large chart detailing every patient currently quarantined and how long they’d been there already. The number of new names which appeared didn’t seem to match the rate of disappearing names who had been declared safe to leave the hospital and it worried Scorpius a lot. He’d started the week with six babies under his care but by Wednesday he had seven (two new, one of his first BCF babies having finally been allowed to go home).

It was also disheartening to notice a familiar name on another Healer’s section of the chart: Betsy, who he’d only diagnosed with Stage One on Monday. 

“What happened to Betsy?” he asked aloud to nobody in particular.

“Her mum didn’t give her the doses of her potion in time, she contracted Stage Two,” another Healer, Nicholas, explained while passing. “Happy Friday!” 

“That’s awful!” 

“The problem with this potion and the every-five-hours thing,” Nicholas called over his shoulder.

Scorpius sighed heavily, pretending a wave of hopelessness hadn’t just washed over him.

With his wand thoroughly cleaned and his extensive protective charms applied, Scorpius was finally ready to enter the quarantine ward. He heard the magical seal of the door open around him and he stepped inside; it always felt a bit like walking into a bubble. 

At least half the paediatrics staff were in the quarantine ward at any given time, Healer nurses making up almost as many as the patients did. Flashes of lime green Healer’s robes interspersed the deep teal of the nurses against the clinical white of each set of bedsheets. It was loud, buzzing with the sounds of children, some crying, and the conversations of Healers.

Due to the division of responsibilities on the neonatal ward, it was only Scorpius and Isla who led the care for the babies on the quarantine ward. They could handle the amount of cases between them; the disease tended to affect children more often than infants, but when it did show up in a baby, it hit them hard. Scorpius made an immediate beeline for the patient he was most worried about: nine month old Harmony, who’d been under constant surveillance since the flu had overloaded her magical system so much it had caused her to fit. She was sleeping under the watchful gaze of a Healer nurse, who looked up as Scorpius approached, concern etched on his face.

“She had another one earlier,” he said immediately. “Lasted three minutes and,” he paused and thought, “thirty eight seconds.” 

“Ouch, that’s a long one.” Scorpius approached the cot and leant over Harmony’s sleeping form, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. “Poor, little love. Okay, let me check things.”

“Her heart rate’s stayed consistent,” the Healer nurse commented. 

Scorpius muttered to himself as he watched Harmony’s vital statistics float above her. He reached out and gently stroked a finger over the tiny whiskers forming a rash covering both her cheeks, sighing as he felt it was angry and rough beneath his fingertips. She was part way through the full course of tincture of Granian hair but her magical system was attempting to fight the flu off itself, in the process it was overloading and becoming too much for her to deal with. It was a pattern they were seeing in infants and Scorpius hated seeing his babies in such a state. 

“Alright, Scorp?” Nicholas stopped in passing and raised his dark eyebrows in concern.

“She’s been in here less than a week and she’s had eight fits,” Scorpius said out loud, almost sounding helpless. “Her little body can barely recover before another one takes over.” He looked around at the busy and loud quarantine ward. “I don’t see how this can be the best environment for babies like Harmony. I want her on my ward with me.”

Nicholas frowned. “But she has Stage Two BCF, she’s highly contagious.” 

“Only if she performs magic,” Scorpius countered. “And she’s not even one yet. The chances of her getting stressed enough to have an accidental magic outburst are practically non-existent, in fact I think they’re higher in here than on my ward.”

“You have other patients in there though,” Nicholas lightly chuckled.

Scorpius sighed. “I know, I know it’s unrealistic. I’m just so worried about her, about all of them.”

“We just have to keep going, giving them the Granian hair, keeping them safe here. They’ll recover.”

Scorpius politely refrained from mentioning that none of Nicholas’ patients were infants or having fits every day, but instead he just nodded and made an excuse to walk away. 

* * *

The weekly BCF Crisis Reaction Meeting took place at two o’clock every Friday and so far, Scorpius had attended every single one without having had lunch. Two o’clock was normally his chance to grab ten minutes in the staff room, unless he was in surgery, because there was always so much going on up until then. To Scorpius’ amazement, this week, he’d managed to make it to his lunchbox with time to spare before the meeting began, however the staff room held an unpleasant surprise.

“Scorpius, have you seen it yet?” Nicholas said immediately, looking up from something at the table.

“Seen what?”

Nicholas wordlessly passed him what turned out to be a newspaper clipping. Scorpius read the headline and felt sick.

_“St Mungo’s To Blame!” says mother of gravely ill child_

“Just read it.” Nicholas waved a hand. 

_Allison Colson, of Walton on Thames, had this to say about the treatment her and her son received from St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies And Injuries. “My son was displaying worrying symptoms: a persistent cough, a fever, cold hands. I, of course, knew that they could be a sign of Stage One Black Cat Flu and contacted a Healer at once. I was, to my amazement, given an appointment of all things, and not until the following afternoon for my son to be tested for the deadly disease.”_

_Alison followed St Mungo’s advice and limited her son’s contact with magic until the test could be administered. However, when she arrived for the test, it was not as smooth as she’d hoped._

_“We were kept waiting for over an hour. Eventually, we were told we would have to return the following day to be tested as all the Healers were apparently occupied. Well, I’m sure you can guess what happened before the following day came. That’s right, my precious son came out in the whiskers every parent lives in fear of. He’s now in quarantine at St Mungo’s with Stage Two Black Cat Flu.”_

_Mrs Colson was unable to comment further at this point of the interview. This concerning story casts severe doubt over the organisation and reliability of the hospital staff. We approached St Mungo’s for comment and are awaiting a response._

“There’s no _way_ they would have been sent home without a test if this child was displaying all those symptoms. _Nobody_ would have let that happen,” Scorpius said confidently.

“Exactly, mate. Something in her story doesn’t add up,” Nicholas put in.

“But, o’ course,” another Healer added through a mouthful of sandwich, “that’ll get all the parents up in arms. Just what we need, them not to trust us at a time like this.” 

Scorpius looked back at the page from the Prophet and cast his eye over the moving _comments_ section under the article. It was constantly updated as more readers left their own response to the article.

_Shocking that this has been allowed to happen. Shame on you, St Mungo’s._

_SM’s expect us to follow all these BCF rules and restrictions without question yet they can’t even do their jobs properly._

_WHY WASN’T THIS CHILD TESTED ON TIME??? SURELY ALL HEALERS INVOLVED SHOULD BE UP IN FRONT OF THE WIZENGAMOT!!!!!_

Scorpius crumpled the newspaper up into his fist and threw it at the table in annoyance.

“I know, mate.” Nicholas clapped him on the back, gathering his paperwork and starting to leave the staff room alongside Scorpius. “Come on, let’s see what we’re going to do about it.” 

The conference room on the top floor of the hospital was filled with a buzz that could only have been in response to the article. Scorpius nibbled at the edges of a biscuit in annoyance as the meeting commenced; he never had gotten around to eating his lunch. He pictured the sandwich Albus had made him, probably with a sweet note attached, sat alone in the staff room fridge. _There goes this week’s less-sugar attempt_ . _Thanks, Alison Colson of Walton-on-Thames,_ Scorpius thought bitterly to himself. 

Everybody had filed in and someone closed the door to signal the start of the meeting; a hush fell over the large, wooden conference table.

“Good afternoon, everybody.” Professor Araminta Grand, who worked at SMSHE and chaired these meetings cleared her throat politely. “I know the main topic on everyone’s mind is this… article.” Araminta waved her hand dismissively. “I’d like to ask you to please hold your comments for now so we can follow the agenda.” 

“The Prophet are threatening public health!” somebody cried in outrage. “If we lose the trust of the public, there’s no chance of beating this.”

A few noises of agreement caused Araminta to hold her hand up for silence. “Thank you. I believe the Minister will address this later.”

Hermione Granger nodded calmly by her side. “Indeed, thank you, Professor Grand. And thank you everyone for, yet again, taking the time to be here.” 

“Item one, as usual, an update on the epidemic as it stands.” Araminta tapped a large board with her wand so that a series of numbers appeared. “As you can see, we are still seeing a higher number of patients entering quarantine than leaving. However, it should be noted that this week saw an eighteen percent increase in the number of cases closed.”

A light and unenthusiastic smattering of applause followed her words. It was hardly a statistic to celebrate, given the even bigger increase in the number of patients in quarantine. 

“A reminder of our aims: to increase the number of cases caught and effectively treated at Stage One of the disease, to continue to heal those children who have contracted Stage Two and keep them safe from risk of Stage Three, to create a long term prevention plan for a future epidemic similar to this.”

There were a lot of general nods.

“Now, Healer Bannister, with one of our aims being the increased detection and treatment of those patients with Stage One, can you update us on the developments with the testing scheme?”

Ruth cleared her throat and briefly consulted some parchment before addressing the room. 

“Forgive me for mentioning the article, but despite its many inaccuracies, it is very true that the paediatrics department is overrun by the BCF testing. I raised this issue at a previous meeting-“

“And we arranged for Smash students to assist, Healer Bannister.” She was interrupted, a bit snidely in Scorpius’ opinion, by Cyril Harrington.

Cyril Harrington was a member of the board for St Mungo’s. He had no medical background himself, rather had given enough large donations that he got to sit in on these meetings if he wanted to. Cyril had a lot to do with the division of finances for the hospital. It was the general consensus of all the Healers present to just let him get on with it; most had got quite good at hiding their eye rolls and sighs.

Ruth did exactly that, her expression as impassive as ever. “The number of children requiring the test is still overwhelming us. We all know the key to solving this epidemic is to catch more cases in Stage One when they don’t require quarantine and can be treated in a matter of days.”

“No, the key is to find a way to cure those with Stage Two _instantly,”_ Cyril insisted to a cacophony of mutinous mutters. 

“The Granian hair works to cure the disease because of its exponential growth,” a potioneer sighed. “There is no way to make it instant.” 

“Well surely you can find a way to make it take _less than a month,”_ he said nastily. “If we can cure the Stage Twos a bit quicker, we can stop wasting hospital resources on all these long stay quarantine patients.” 

“That isn’t remotely the point.” Ruth said, clearly bored of having to repeat herself. “We need to be focused on treating more cases at Stage One, _before_ quarantine is even required. There’s a very small window of time after Stage One becomes apparent before it turns into Stage Two. That’s when we need to be treating the disease, while it’s still at that early Stage One.”

“That’s what your department is supposed to be doing with the testing programme!” 

“And we are doing the best we can with the resources we have been provided,” Ruth said coolly, staring him down. 

The room had reached pin-drop levels of palpable silence; Scorpius hardly dared even breathe.

“Explain to me why your best isn’t good enough then,” Cyril spat.

There was an awkward pause; the meetings never usually got this heated. 

“I think that’s grossly unfair of you,” Hermione said solemnly. “The testing programme is in its early stages and, for it to work, we need to listen to our Healers on what is and isn’t effective.” She caught Scorpius’ eye. “Scorpius, what do you think?” 

Scorpius swallowed, completely taken aback by being asked directly what he thought. But that was what these meetings were for, so he collected himself quickly and squeezed his thumb under the table, summoning all his courage to say what he was about to say. 

“The testing programme is helping, but we can see that it’s not enough to cover our needs. Too many cases are reaching Stage Two, whether that be because parents aren’t bringing their children in early enough or even not at all for Stage One symptoms or that we simply aren’t able to test enough children soon enough. At the moment, we can only offer tests to children actively showing symptoms because we simply don’t have the time or the manpower to test possible cases who haven’t started showing symptoms yet.

“This month, we’re seeing an increase in the percentage of cases reaching Stage Two, which is quite worrying considering how many hours and how much money has gone into this programme.” There were a few nods of agreement and a stony stare from Cyril. Scorpius focused on the nods and Ruth’s encouraging expression. “If there were a way for parents to test at home-“

“What a stupid idea,” Cyril said loudly. 

“Let him speak,” Hermione commanded. 

Scorpius nodded awkwardly. “Er, if there were a way for parents to test at home, it would increase our chances of catching and treating cases at Stage One and it would reduce the number of both staff and hours needed for the testing programme here. Parents could administer the test and a positive result could allow them to collect a seven day course of Granian hair tincture from an apothecary. In theory, we would only be seeing children in St Mungo’s if they progressed onto Stage Two.”

He decided not to go into the issue of parents neglecting to deliver the doses of potion on time, like in Betsy’s case. It didn’t feel like the right time to raise that concern, especially not when Cyril was already looking apoplectic at Scorpius’ home testing idea.

Araminta frowned. “The testing spell is complicated. Can we expect unqualified wizards to administer professional level Healing spells to their children?” 

Ruth nodded. “We could trap the spell. Have a Healer perform it into a magical trap and seal it, it doesn’t take a qualified Healer to open a box.”

“But it does take a qualified Healer to interpret the results,” Araminta pressed. “We can’t have parents giving their children Granian hair if they don’t actually need to take it.”

Scorpius frowned to himself, thinking that she was right. For every Betsy, whose mum was too quick to think everything was okay and stop giving her the potion, there was another parent who would insist on a full course even if their child had no symptoms. Granian hair wasn’t dangerous to take but children were quickly becoming resistant to it as it was, they didn’t need to add to that issue.

He thought hard, not wanting to completely abandon the idea, and raised his hand, waiting to be granted permission to speak. “Maybe the potion still has to come from us. But could we look into a simplified version of the spell which doesn’t display full results and instead simply flags up those who present a risk? A simple green for healthy, red for at risk? For parents to use at home to speed up the testing process, save them waiting to be seen here. And for children who aren’t displaying symptoms yet but who may have been exposed.” 

A few mumbles and mutters at this idea. Scorpius definitely heard someone mention the Prophet article and _Alison Colson of Walton-on-Thames._

“We should be careful not to stir up more fear amongst parents. Having a huge red light pop up over their child could send some parents into a panic,” Ruth said, “but I like the concept.”

Scorpius thought again. “We could use a numbered scale. Market it in the same way parents check their child’s temperature if they seem ill. _Parents, noticing any concerning symptoms? Use this spell and contact a Healer if your child presents a reading of five or higher.”_

“It would have to be administered with a clean wand!” someone from Ministry Health and Safety put in. 

“Not if we trap the spell ourselves,” Ruth said quickly. “We shouldn’t encourage parents to use magic on their children at the moment. The spell would have to come from the test, not from a wand.”

Scorpius smiled to himself, proud that they were taking his idea seriously. 

“I think you could be onto something here, Scorpius. A home testing kit, given to every family, one for every magical child.” Hermione was gazing at him evenly.

“Will it be available for adults to use too?” someone from another department said, putting their hand up.

“We’ll need to discuss that further, I think,” Hermione said calmly.

“Adults are not as much at risk!” someone else put in. “There have been less than thirty cases of BCF in adults and none of them reached Stage Two.”

“But adults can be asymptomatic and pass it on,” said someone else.

Scorpius felt a bit like his idea was crashing down before his eyes as a hubbub of disagreement grew. 

“How will we fund this, _Minister?”_ a snide voice cut through the noise.

There was a collective yet somehow silent sigh as everyone was reminded of Cyril’s presence, united once again in their dislike for him.

Hermione gave him a sharp look. “I’ll worry about that. This could save our children.” She turned back to the room at large. “I’ll arrange for a team from Experimental Spells to attend the next meeting so we can start making this happen. Please, note down your questions and concerns so we can discuss productively.” 

Cyril bristled to himself and there was a pensive silence. 

Araminta cleared her throat awkwardly. “Potions, talk to us about the cure.” 

Martha Philtrus, head of the St Mungo’s Potions department, sighed. “At the moment, we still aren’t any closer to finding an effective replacement for Granian hair.”

“So we can cure the children, but only for a short while because eventually everyone is going to become resistant to it,” Cyril said in a disparaging tone. “Can’t wait for all the recovered children to become reinfected with new Super Black Cat Flu.” He sat back in his seat and folded his arms, reminding Scorpius of a sulky child who hadn’t got their way.

Martha forced a smile. “Hence why we’re looking into an alternative cure. The thing with Granian hair is it’s gentle enough to use on the magical system but still strong enough to kill the virus. We have some promising experiments in the works and more avenues we plan to explore. The overall aim is to make the potion without Granian hair, but we’re also exploring possibilities around modifying the hair somehow instead.” 

Scorpius tuned out a little bit as she spoke about the intricacies of the cure and why Granian hair was so hard to replace and the experiments they were undertaking in the Potions department. His St Mungo’s badge lightly buzzed against his chest, indicating someone was sending him a memo, which was unexpected considering most of the people who tended to send him memos were in this room. A quick glance down the large meeting table and Scorpius saw Ruth scribbling away with a lime green memo quill. He smiled to himself; her boldness in simply checking out of the parts of the meeting which didn’t interest her was strangely admirable.

Scorpius was too wary of seeming impolite to check the memo during the meeting and he made a concerted effort to focus on what was being said.

Martha came to the end of her speech and there were scattered nods as nobody really had anything to add. It sounded a bit like they were trying to do the impossible, but nobody really wanted to admit how true that was and what they were really up against here.

Araminta cleared her throat again and visibly winced before speaking. “Any other business?”

Immediately, several hands went up along with a collective muttering. 

“I’ll amend that question.” Araminta smiled in a forced sort of way. “First, any other business that doesn’t concern the Daily Prophet article?”

Every single hand went down. 

“Right then, here we go…”

* * *

Finally, Scorpius had time to eat the sandwich Albus had made for him. He breathed out a huge sigh, just staring at the floor for a second as the magnitude of the BCF epidemic once again hit him. They had more children arriving every day with the disease, they weren’t catching more Stage Ones like they’d hoped, the quarantine ward was constantly being expanded and even the children who were being sent home cured weren’t safe. 

Scorpius sighed again, wondering when this nightmare would end. 

“Hard day?” 

Beside him on the bench suddenly was Teddy, who looked as dejected as Scorpius felt. 

“This flu, it’s a nightmare.” He put his head in his hands. “I knew being a Healer would be hard at times, but this is just never ending.” 

“Sorry, mate.” Teddy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“What are you doing here?” Scorpius asked, as it vaguely dawned on him that Teddy didn’t work at St Mungo’s. “I thought Vic worked at the Diagon practice now.”

“She was here today,” Teddy shrugged, reaching up and removing the visitor’s badge attached to his robes. The welcome witch must have been very thorough; Albus was never given a visitor’s badge when he came to visit Scorpius. 

“Sorry I couldn’t stay at the girls’ party,” Scorpius rested his chin on his fist. 

“Don’t worry at all, we understand.” Teddy nodded. “They love the castle tent by the way, it’s taking up most of the kitchen currently.”

Scorpius grinned apologetically. “Couldn’t resist, I knew they’d love it. I picked that, Albus chose the paints.” 

“That comes as no surprise at all,” Teddy smirked. “You two are quite the favourites in our house. It’s always _when are Uncle Al and Scorpy babysitting us again_?” 

“It has been too long,” Scorpius winced. “I’m sorry, I’ve been working non stop and-“

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that! Your time out of work is so precious, spend it with Albus. Or sleeping,” he added with a chuckle as Scorpius stifled a huge yawn. 

“Will do,” Scorpius laughed too. “How’s work for you?” 

“The usual, busy, but that’s the way I like it. This is rare, having time off in the day,” Teddy grinned. “Vic says I’ve taken on too many clients, but then so has she. Sometimes I like to joke that my customers treat me like a therapist too. Some of them tell me _everything._ ”

Scorpius chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. 

“Seriously, I could start a gossip magazine with some of the stories people tell me.” He grinned. “It’s like, I’m just here to do your hair, I don’t need to know the ins and outs of your best friend’s divorce and how you’ve _never liked Brian much anyway._ ”

“Poor Brian,” Scorpius joined him in laughter.

Teddy glanced at his watch. “Well, I’ve got just enough time to stop by and see the girls when they finish gymnastics before my next appointment. It was nice to see you, Scorpius. I hope things get less stressful for you.”

“Nice seeing you too.”

Once he’d gone, Scorpius finally felt able to unwrap his sandwich, lovingly made for him by Albus the night before. He really did have the most wonderful husband, he thought, as a small parchment note fell out of the paper wrapped around the sandwich. On one side was a little sketch of a potion bottle with a label tied around it reading _Felix Felicis._ Scorpius turned it over and found a note in Albus’ handwriting.

_Lucky me, I married the strongest, sweetest most talented man around. Your babies are blessed to have you but I’m glad you come home to me every night._

_I love you!_

Scorpius smiled to himself, took a bite of the sandwich and sighed as his badge buzzed again with another memo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! the first Scorpius pov chapter, I've had a lot of fun with this alternating pov format, let me know what you think!
> 
> find me on tumblr and instagram @littlerose13writes, i love chatting with readers :)
> 
> chapter 3 coming next Monday xx


	4. Chapter 3 - Suspicious Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist [Zorbing - Stornoway](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiLO4qPkA64)

Albus tapped his foot in slight impatience as he waited for the coffee beans in the grinder in front of him to be ready. Everyone, but especially James, teased Albus for being such a snob when it came to coffee and preferring his beans freshly ground, but Albus wasn’t going to give in and drink substandard coffee when he knew how he liked it. The bean grinder was muggle and had originally been electric, but some clever charm work courtesy of Rose had powered it with magic instead. 

The music box playing quietly in the background began a soft, acoustic song as Albus scooped the freshly ground beans from the machine, breathing in the familiar scent. As he set up the coffee machine to brew a double shot of espresso, his mind wandered to Scorpius and how work was hopefully going for him. His poor husband had barely had time to breathe recently. From the moment he’d left the twins’ birthday party the previous Sunday, he’d been working non stop and the last Albus had heard from him had been very early that morning when Scorpius had kissed him on the head and he’d sleepily mumbled a goodbye. 

That wasn’t uncommon, Albus reminded himself. Scorpius didn’t tend to contact him throughout the day, only on his lunch break or if he had some important news, but after two failed Sunday evenings together, and how busy Scorpius had been that week, it bothered Albus in a way it never had before. 

He sipped at his coffee and sighed, bracing himself to go back to the tedious batch of Alert Elixir he was in the process of brewing. The potion felt like a newborn baby, needing to be checked on constantly and requiring very precise conditions. It contained powdered horn of bicorn which Albus had added to his version of the potion when he discovered it counteracted the unfortunate susceptibility to nosebleeds the traditional recipe caused. Bicorn horn was a pain though; any potioneer knew it was a needy ingredient. He’d already had to set an alarm for the middle of the night so he could sleepily shuffle into the workshop and stir the potion eight times clockwise, as required to stop the powdered bicorn horn sticking. 

_Maybe Scorpius will actually be home by then,_ he thought to himself bitterly. Not that he was bitter towards Scorpius, who was working harder than he ever had, but at the situation which was exhausting his husband. 

He took the coffee back with him into his workshop, breathing in the scent of burnt porcupine quills and blown out candles. Albus’ workshop was technically the spare bedroom, had been when they’d originally moved in fresh out of Hogwarts, but it hadn’t been home to a bed for very long when his experimenting during his apprenticeship at St Mungo’s had somewhat taken over the kitchen. He’d come home one day to find the bedroom furniture gone and a handsome, carved wooden sign reading _Albus’ Potions Workshop_ presented to him by a proud Scorpius. 

The sign still hung on the wall, beside a picture Pippa had drawn of Albus working behind a cauldron. The perspective of the design actually made it look like Albus’ head and limbs were growing directly out of the cauldron, like he was a walking, talking Potions vessel, but Pippa had drawn him with a huge smile on his face. It always made Albus happy to glance up at his goddaughter’s creation. 

The workshop had a large, paned window at one end and a handsome wooden bench. There was one wall comprised entirely of shelves of ingredients which Albus was going to get around to reorganising and labelling soon, a small bookcase of reference texts and a giant window box in which Albus grew a lot of the plants he potioned with. A terrarium to the side of the window held Albus’ ongoing knotgrass research, cauldrons of varying sizes were stacked in one corner and a cabinet in another held empty glass bottles of different sizes ready to be _gemino-d_ when new batches were ready. 

_Turn it up,_ Albus thought clearly to himself, which caused his music box to increase the volume of the song it was playing: the acoustic guitar from before had taken on some light brass instruments. He sighed and lifted the lid of his small cauldron to begin adding the porcupine quill dust to the Alert Elixir. It fizzed in a satisfying way and Albus watched small bubbles float to the surface and pop, which was exactly what was supposed to happen.

Albus consulted the clipboard he kept pinned to the wall with a self inking quill hovering beside it. He crossed off the step he’d just completed with the porcupine quills and checked down the list to see what was next: _bottle hair potion._

At school, Albus had never been one to make to do lists; that had always been much more Scorpius’ sort of thing. But since setting up his bespoke brewing business, Fleamont’s, he’d found he had a bit of a knack for organisation and he took a great deal of pride and enjoyment in carefully planning and tracking everything he did for the business. He wasn’t quite like Scorpius, who documented everything from his daily horoscope to ideas for people’s birthday presents in his bullet journal, but the methodical system of an ever-evolving list made Albus feel like he had his shit together. 

He carefully measured out the perfect amount of hair potion to fill an awaiting glass bottle, etched with the _Fleamont’s_ logo. He inserted a cork and pressed down, holding the potion bottle up to the light. The potion shimmered prettily as the light caught the wording on the label: _brewed by hand, bottled by hand._

“Don’t I know it,” Albus said out loud to nobody in particular, flexing his fingers. He cast his eyes over the forty nine other empty bottles waiting to be _bottled by hand_ with the batch of hair Potion he’d just completed and considered, not for the first time, what it would be like if he employed someone to help him. Again.

There had been a time, years back, not long before he and Scorpius got married that Albus tried hiring an assistant. Fergus McGruer was an enthusiastic Hogwarts graduate who hadn’t managed to secure a sponsor for his potioneers licence and, while Fleamont’s was too small to act as his sponsor, Albus agreed to let Fergus work with him and build up his portfolio until he could try again to get a sponsor. It had been Professor Jacobs’ idea and Albus had naively agreed to it but things with Fergus went from bad to worse, culminating in him causing a small explosion in the workshop and Albus asking him to leave.

Albus clenched his fist; thinking about Fergus tended to make him angry for reasons that had little to do with potions. 

The thing was, Albus really did need another pair of hands in the workshop. With the rate he was selling most of his batch brews and the frequent custom orders that arrived by owl each week he could barely keep up by himself. But he couldn’t imagine just letting some random person into his workshop and into his process. Even for the less sensitive tasks like bottling and labelling finished potions, he liked to have complete control. Fleamont’s was his pride and joy, something that was uniquely his and his alone, and he didn’t feel like sharing with anybody who didn’t _get_ it. He knew that made him a bit of a control freak. 

An owl tapped politely at the window, causing Albus to jump and spill the hair potion he was pouring. He swore loudly and reached for a nearby towel to clean up the mess, placing the half-filled bottle back on his work bench and crossing the room to let the owl in. It was a small, tawny owl and the envelope in its beak was almost twice its size. The owl looked a bit forlorn as Albus took the envelope away and he took pity on the little thing, allowing it to ride on his shoulder into the kitchen where he let it drink from Birdy’s water bowl. 

Pepper Imp the pygmy puff awoke at the sound of the visiting owl hooting happily and she rolled across the kitchen counter, lining herself up to eye this new guest suspiciously. Her little eyes narrowed and she stuck her tongue out at the owl.

“Be nice, Pep,” Albus warned and Pepper squeaked in surprise, immediately withdrawing her tongue and turning to Albus with an innocent expression, a tiny halo momentarily appearing above her head. She bounced over to him and nuzzled against his hand, still holding the giant envelope. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Albus sighed, letting Pepper run up his arm and perch on his shoulder in her favourite position where she chirped happily. “No nibbling my hair, please.” 

Pepper made a noise of defeat in his ear as he eased open the envelope, noticing the return address confirmed it was what he was expecting. Fleamont’s was about to launch a new line of plant-based Invigoration potions and these were the final marketing images. The Potions were designed to boost the taker’s energy, allowing for increased concentration and improved physical stamina. He’d collaborated with Poppy Longbottom and her vegan ingredient business, creating the wizarding world’s first cruelty-free energy potion. 

The advertising for the Potions all centered around witches and wizards using the potion to _aim higher_ and _reach further_ and _feel stronger_ in a way which was designed to emulate similar advertisements for older energy potions. The images displayed people taking sips of the potion on top of mountains, or about to mount a broom, or in a gym lifting heavy weights. The twist was that each person was sharing their activity with a magical creature (which Hugo had cleverly added in using special effect charms on his camera) to emphasise the cruelty-free aspect of the potion. A crup trotted obediently up the mountain too, a pygmy dragon circled the head of the quidditch player, a niffler delightedly sniffed at a shiny kettlebell. Albus hadn’t been convinced that this wouldn’t just be incredibly cringey when Teddy had proposed the idea, but he had to admit that Hugo had pulled off the photography well. 

“Ooh, Pepper, you look great.” Albus patted her with one finger, drawing her attention to the image he’d just flicked to.

It showed two girls clinking the small potion bottles together, one of them with a Quaffle tucked under her arm and the other with Pepper Imp riding on her shoulder, both of them wearing sportswear. One of the girls was Albus’ school friend Imogen, who was always up for appearing in Albus’ marketing campaigns, which suited him just fine. Imogen was incredibly popular and had a myriad of fans throughout the wizarding world for the way she used her platform as a famous model to publicly discuss issues affecting witches. 

The other girl was an American model Teddy had originally got the contact of after they’d worked together on a magazine shoot. Her name was Langley Lernbacher and she was the younger sister of Quidditch Seeker Lara Lernbacher, who’d famously transferred from the Monterey Marmots over to the Holyhead Harpies a season ago. But Langley was pretty well-known too, thanks partly to the on-again-off-again relationship she and James spent most of their time teasing the press with. 

Despite being the closest thing his brother had to a long term partner, Albus had only met Langley for the first time at this photoshoot. She’d told him that he had _great cheekbones_ then later asked if he wanted to smoke gillyweed with her outside, which Albus politely declined. 

The combination of Langley and Imogen in the same photo was bound to create a buzz, which was why they’d photographed them together. Albus’ product was guaranteed extra attention. 

Albus sometimes wondered when he’d reached a point in life where he _wanted_ extra attention, but that was business. And anyway, it wasn’t _him_ getting the attention, it was his potion, his way of making a living. Or of making sure he could continue to spoil Scorpius the way he liked to. 

“ _Images look great,”_ Albus spoke out loud as he quickly scribbled a note back to Hugo. “ _Thanks a lot, Hugo.”_

With the note sent off, Albus flopped onto the sofa wearily and looked around the room for a second, the silence suddenly pressing in on him from all sides. He liked working alone, took comfort in quiet, enjoyed his own company, but right then he was craving connection. Scorpius’ long shifts and late nights couldn’t be helped, but Albus missed his husband, his best friend. He missed the quiet evenings they spent together, how Scorpius could understand him with just a look or a touch, how he felt so safe curled up on the sofa against Scorpius’ chest. 

He missed Scorpius’ touch, gentle and familiar and exciting all at once. Albus wasn’t going to sit there and complain that Scorpius’ job was interfering with their relationship… but it had been over two weeks since they’d last had sex. And sex with Scorpius was nothing short of magical as far as Albus was concerned; it would be good for both of them if Scorpius could wrangle his way into a night off soon. 

Before the outbreak of Black Cat Flu, Scorpius would usually get home around now. He’d tumble through the Floo, place his shoes in the wicker basket to the left of the fireplace, and call out a cheery _hello!_ to alert Albus of his presence. Albus would normally be there in the kitchen anyway, making a start on dinner, and Scorpius would come and wrap his arms around him comfortingly. He’d smell like the ward: disinfecting charms and breast milk imitation potion and soft cotton and spun sugar. 

Albus could always tell what sort of day Scorpius had had depending on how he hugged Albus. A tighter, more desperate hug meant his boss or maybe a colleague had said or done something which had got to him. If he buried his face into Albus’ hair, he was worried about a patient. A gentle squeeze meant he had some good news to share and a contented sigh was a sign that Scorpius had really enjoyed his day. 

While Albus cooked, Scorpius would shower and change out of his Healer robes, by which time, whatever Albus was making was normally ready to be plated up. Scorpius would emerge from their bedroom, his hair damp and rumpled, in a t-shirt and some of his posh pyjama bottoms, or sometimes a pair of Albus’ joggers, rolled up to his knees so they weren’t ridiculously short on him. Then he’d help Albus serve dinner, kiss him on the cheek, gush about how lucky he was to have such a wonderful husband. 

Albus sighed sadly, comparing the image in his head to the quiet, empty flat of his reality. All too often recently, he’d been cooking by himself and putting Scorpius’ portion to one side for when he arrived home much later. He stroked his bearded chin in thought, trying to unravel his feelings and approach them rationally. 

Determined not to wallow in misery over a situation which couldn’t be helped, Albus began to pace about the room. He pulled his wand out and hesitated, before deciding to go for it. The day he and Scorpius got married filled his mind and he muttered the incantation to bring his silvery raven patronus into existence. 

“Any idea what time you’ll be back? About to start dinner,” he asked gently, using his wand to send the patronus off to Scorpius. 

Albus stayed standing for a second, clicking his tongue, then he fell back onto the sofa. His mind half heartedly ran over some options for dinner: stir fry, Scorpius’ favourite pasta, shepherd’s pie. He didn’t have the motivation to get up and cook any of them. Really, he just wanted Scorpius. 

On the verge of skipping dinner and going back to bottling up his hair potions instead, his heart lifted when a bright hummingbird materialised in front of him and spoke with Scorpius’ voice. 

“ _Actually looking like I’ll get out on time today! See you soon, my love.”_

A huge grin took over Albus’ face and he covered his face with his hands, hiding like a little boy. He hadn’t been expecting a reply that quickly and especially not one with news like that. 

A renewed energy in him, Albus headed to the kitchen, opening cupboards at random and humming a song to himself. A plan began to form in his head and he conjured another patronus.

“Are you exhausted, love? Can I take you out for dinner? We could go to Piazza again.” 

Scorpius’ hummingbird returned within minutes. “ _I’d love to go out for dinner! Come and meet me, here?”_

While it spoke, a second hummingbird appeared, jostling for Albus’ attention as soon as the first hummingbird had delivered its message. “ _Please can you bring me something else to wear? My robes are covered in BCF potion and biscuit crumbs, not suitable for Piazza.”_

Albus chuckled to himself at his husband’s indirect way of letting him know his ambitious attempt to go without sugar at work had once again nose-dived. 

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes with crumb-free clothing for you.” 

He watched his raven swoop away and grinned to himself, his mood lifted completely as he stepped into his and Scorpius’ bedroom and threw open the wardrobe. Over half of the clothes belonged to Scorpius; Albus preferred to have less to choose from. He deliberated for a second before selecting an outfit for Scorpius and folding it lovingly into a neat square on the bed, deciding he could do with getting changed too.

He wriggled into his favourite black jeans, pulled a soft black jumper over his head and slipped his feet into the same floral boots he’d worn to the twins’ princess birthday party. Albus always favoured monochrome for his clothes, but he found himself drawn to brighter colours and patterns when it came to his footwear. Somehow, it didn’t feel like as much of a statement when it was on his feet. He tipped a small amount of hair potion into his palm and rubbed it through his hair, styling the longer part on top into a swooping wave; the way he did when he wanted to give a shit about his hair. Satisfied, he gathered up Scorpius’ clothes and stepped towards the Floo. At the last minute, Albus grabbed his sketchbook and tucked it into his bag. 

Scorpius was waiting for him in the reception area of the paediatrics department, chatting to a midwitch who looked like his face was going to split in two, he was grinning so widely. Albus watched his husband clap the young midwitch on the shoulder of his blue robes and smile kindly before he spotted Albus and beckoned him over.

“Hi, love. You look nice.” Scorpius reached for his hand. “This is Stephen. He’s just delivered his first ever baby. Stephen, this is my husband, Albus.” 

“Wow, that’s incredible. Nice to meet you, Stephen.” Albus shook his hand. 

“You too,” Stephen replied, still beaming uncontrollably. 

Stephen ecstatically told Albus in great detail the exact weight, height in inches and head circumference of the baby he’d delivered while Scorpius went to get changed. Albus knew enough through Scorpius to agree with Stephen that yes, the baby was quite little at only six pounds and two ounces, but he wasn’t quite sure what else Stephen wanted him to say. 

Luckily, it didn’t take Scorpius long to change from his green Healer robes into the clothes Albus had brought him from home; jeans and a soft jumper made up of patchwork squares in different pastel knits. He emerged with a shrewd expression on his face, rolling the sleeves of the jumper up to his elbows. 

“You brought my tight jeans.” He had a huge grin on his face. 

Albus was openly staring at his husband and he smirked. “Yep.” He ran his hands up and down Scorpius’ arms. “And this jumper. You’re so soft and cuddly when you wear this.” 

“One of us has to be soft and cuddly.” Scorpius poked at his all black ensemble. “This is… dark.”

“I’m wearing the shoes!” Albus protested, wiggling one of his feet out in front of him. 

“You look as handsome as ever, love.” Scorpius pulled him into his chest and Albus breathed in his familiar, homely scent. He went to naturally pull away but Scorpius held on, clinging tightly to Albus for a second longer. 

Albus sighed knowingly before Scorpius eventually let go. 

“Shall we? Without wanting to sound dramatic, I’ve never been more starving.” He still had that overly large grin on his face, Albus noticed. 

“No, you’re never dramatic,” Albus bumped his shoulder into Scorpius’ side as he took his hand. 

The Italian restaurant they favoured was moderately busy, even for a Friday evening, but a waiter showed them to a table for two and flicked his wand so their water glasses filled instantly. Scorpius toyed with the wine list then slid it in Albus’ direction.

“I’ll fall asleep if I drink,” he chuckled heartily. “But you go ahead.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Albus took a large sip of water and turned to the main menu instead, glancing up at Scorpius. “They’ve got that braised asparagus you like back in season.” 

Scorpius was buried in his own menu. Albus wondered when he was going to mention what was clearly bothering him, if it was just general work stress or something more specific. He tangled his feet with Scorpius’ under the table in what he hoped was an encouraging way. 

Scorpius sighed and Albus waited with baited breath. “Do you want to split a few things? I like too much of this menu.” 

“Of course, babe.” Albus knew exactly which _few things_ Scorpius meant; he was a creature of habit and chose from the same favourites each time. 

There was a pause, Scorpius smiled to himself and Albus gently rubbed his forearm where it rested in the table top. “Do you want to talk about work?” he offered gently. 

Scorpius sighed and closed his menu off to one side, fiddling with the gilt edges. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Kiera went home today, with baby Henry. We waited a whole week, to observe, just in case, but he seems to be fine.”

“Well that’s great!” Albus put forward hopefully.

“Merlin, yes,” Scorpius said very seriously. “You know how worried I was. It’s just… Al, there’s no end in sight to all of this. There’ll be more cases like Kiera for me to worry about.” 

“Is that what you’re upset about?” Albus asked kindly. 

Scorpius shook his head. He looked down and spoke quietly. “The Prophet ran a story.”

Albus felt his stomach drop. “Oh no, what?”

Scorpius had an uncharacteristically dark expression on his face. “I don’t have it with me, but some mother went to the Prophet and sold this ridiculous story about how we neglected to diagnose her son at Stage One, which is why he’s now in quarantine. It’s all lies but people are believing it, that we don’t really care. We’ve been getting nasty letters to the department all day.”

He looked close to tears and Albus felt anger surge within him at even the _notion_ that someone could accuse his husband of neglecting to care enough about a patient. 

“That’s-“

“And that’s not all!” Scorpius was breathing heavily by now and Albus unconsciously reached across the table for his hand. “I’m convinced we’re going to end up with a case of reinfection. What if the virus is resistant to the Granian hair a second time? What do I do then?” 

Several different theories around the use of the Granian hair crossed Albus’ mind, the factual, familiar comfort of potioning helping him cope with seeing Scorpius so upset. He felt like all he’d done was helplessly see Scorpius upset for the past few months. 

At that moment, a waiter awkwardly cleared his throat and Albus and Scorpius broke apart. “Are you ready to order?”

Albus hurried through Scorpius’ favourite dishes monotonously and waited for the waiter to nod and leave. 

“Love,” he squeezed Scorpius’ hand, “this isn’t all on you. You’ll face whatever happens with your team, and it _will_ be alright. Granian hair takes a lot to build resistance usually, and there’ll be a way around that if you need it. A different winged creature or something might work, but your potioneers will know that,” he said casually.

“They’re in the midsts of experiments,” Scorpius said quietly then he shook his head firmly. “I’m worrying about _what ifs_ again, I really must stop doing that.” 

“You worry because you care, Scor, and I love that about you.” Albus gave his hand a squeeze. “But don’t let it consume you.” 

“I love you,” Scorpius said gratefully. 

“And I love you. The Prophet’s talking rubbish, your department is doing more than anyone to solve this mess. I wonder who wrote the article, because if I tell Mum-“

“No, it’s fine, Hermione’s already speaking to the Prophet. They’re putting our strategy at risk, printing stories like that without fact checking.” Scorpius shook his head firmly. “It’s okay, it’s all being dealt with in one way or another. Tell me about your day.”

“Scor…” 

“ _Please.”_

Albus nodded. “My day was fine. Hugo sent the marketing stuff for the Invigoration potion, it looks good, Pepper’s really cute in it. I left my next batch of Alert Elixir simmering but it took most of the day. I placed an order with Apothecology and they sent me a copy of their new supply catalogue. I read it over lunch, they have some nice things. And, er, I forgot to finish bottling up that hair potion actually, remind me to quickly finish that when we get home please.” 

Albus knew that Scorpius wanted to hear every mundane detail of his day, that focusing on Albus’ words would help him ground himself. And he watched as Scorpius’ shoulders lost some of their tension, as his jaw relaxed. 

Albus fiddled with the edge of his napkin. “So, I meant to tell you after the twins’ party but-“

“I’ve barely been at home and awake for more than an hour since then,” Scorpius completed shrewdly. 

“Well, yeah.”

Scorpius grinned. “What’s wrong?”

“Lily knows we’re moving.” He paused to let Scorpius react but he didn’t say anything. “She saw the architect plans in my bag and, being my little sister, she looked at them.” 

Scorpius frowned. “This is… a bad thing? Is Lily not supposed to know we’re moving?”

“We agreed not to tell anyone until we finalise the plans.” 

“She doesn’t know _why_ we want to move, does she?”

Albus hesitated. “I’m not sure how she could know.”

“I think it’s alright that she knows.” Scorpius shrugged.

“She’ll tell my parents, in fact she probably already has by now. Most likely she told them that night as soon as they were all home.” 

“They’re going to want to help us, aren’t they,” Scorpius said with a forced smile. “That’ll be nice.”

“No. No it will not be nice. We already have your dad to help us,” Albus said bluntly. 

“Well, the more the merrier,” Scorpius kept smiling but it was strained.

“They’ll try and convince us to move back to the village I grew up in, and let’s not even _consider_ what they’ll be like if they work out why we want to move.” 

There was a very good reason they’d only told Draco of their moving plans. He wouldn’t ask questions - even though Albus suspected he’d worked out why they wanted to move - and instead would wait for them to tell him. Draco Malfoy wasn’t one to press issues; not like Albus’ Gryffindor parents. 

Scorpius’ eyes widened. “I’m sure they’ll be nothing but highly supportive.”

“I know. It’s just that we’ve barely had a chance to process this ourselves.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Scorpius said confidently. “I think you’re worrying unnecessarily.”

“Wow, imagine doing that,” Albus said dryly and Scorpius cracked a smile. 

“Did you see anything in _Apothecology_ you think you’d like for your new workshop in our new house?” 

Albus blinked at the subject change then shook his head. “I don’t know, wasn’t really looking with that in mind. I don’t need a load of new stuff though, we can just move what I have now into the new house.”

Scorpius looked faintly disappointed. “You don’t want to redesign? I was thinking you could have glass shelves with lavender accents, or maybe some reclaimed wood with gilt features. Martha has these beautiful wicker baskets for her-” He broke off when he noticed Albus smirking at him. “What?”

“I enjoy how keen you are. I love you.”

Scorpius’ expression of bewilderment softened into a sweet smile.

“Here, I brought something to show you.” Albus reached into his bag and removed his sketchbook. “I’ve finished it.”

Scorpius rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Oooh, yes, let me see.” 

Albus laughed and turned the pages around the spiral edge until the page he needed was at the front. He slid it across the table to Scorpius and apprehensively waited for his husband’s reaction. 

Only a second after he saw it, Scorpius gasped softly. “You finished it,” he said, lifting his eyes from the page to smile at Albus. “How long has this one been in the works?” 

Albus shrugged. “A while. I’m finally happy with it.” 

When Albus said _a while_ , he truly meant it. The design had first appeared in his sketchbook when he was around eighteen and first living with Scorpius. It was one of the paper swans Scorpius liked to fold when he was feeling anxious and Albus knew he’d wanted a form of the design for ages but it was only now that he finally felt like it was ready. 

“Is it going to move?” Scorpius asked, stroking his finger over the little swan. 

Albus smiled and pulled out his wand. “Watch.”

He tapped the picture of the swan. Slowly, a pattern of clouds and waves drifted across the design, so that the swan looked as if it were folded from a photo of the coast. 

Scorpius looked elated. “You’re so clever! And where’s this going?” 

Albus pulled his jumper sleeve up past his elbow and twisted his arm to show Scorpius the empty spot on his upper arm he planned to fill with the swan, above his guitar and beside the bunch of rare wildflowers Lily had designed for him years ago. It had become a bit of a thing for Albus, his tattoos. After the hummingbird on his shoulder blade in seventh year, he’d wanted to get another one which was how he’d ended up with the guitar on his upper arm, drawn in one singular line; that one had been muggle. It hadn’t even been on purpose to get them both on the same side of his body, but when it came to choosing where to put the next one (a sunflower, his mum’s favourite) the most obvious choice had been to continue the pattern. 

He was nineteen when he decided to turn it into a full sleeve and he’d been slowly adding to it for years now, each new piece careful and intentional, no matter how much James asked him when he was going to _hurry up and finish colouring himself in._ A Scorpio constellation ran from his shoulder to his collarbone, a supernova star shot up his inner forearm, and then there were more: the bouquet of wildflowers for when he opened Fleamont’s, a small key like the one to his and Scorpius’ flat, four tiny dots in a row across his wrist, the third one larger, to match with Lily, James and Teddy, a tiny, artfully cracked bowl, its chips filled with a magical gold ink that shimmered when it caught the light. 

“It’ll go here,” Albus said, showing Scorpius the place he knew was perfect for the paper swan. 

“Will it hurt, there?” 

Albus shook his head. “Not much.”

Scorpius opened his mouth to say something but the waiter appeared with the braised asparagus started they’d ordered and he switched immediately into politely making space on the table and commenting on how nice it looked and confirming that no they didn’t need to order any more drinks.

It was nice to just be a couple, out for a meal, if Albus could pretend to himself that Scorpius hadn’t bitten all his fingernails off in anxiety or that the bags under his eyes were just the lighting. But he’d relaxed considerably compared to when they’d first arrived and he laughed effortlessly throughout the meal; it was one of Albus’ favourite sights. 

Less than an hour later, when they were on their way out of the restaurant, Albus recognised someone waiting at the host stand. It was Rose, her eyes scanning over a piece of parchment impatiently. She was in smart Ministry robes and had a quill tucked behind her ear. 

“Rosie!” Scorpius, of course, greeted her with full enthusiasm, as if he hadn’t just completed an entire day’s shift on little sleep. 

Rose jumped and hurriedly tucked the parchment away. 

“Oh, hello, you two.” 

“What are you doing here?” Scorpius asked brightly.

Rose smirked. “Getting dinner, which I’m sure is an entirely different reason to why you’re both here.” 

“Right, yes,” Scorpius blushed a bit. “Highly recommend the asparagus.” 

“Oh, I’ve already ordered, just picking it up.” Rose shrugged as the host behind the counter gestured for her to come forward. He levitated two small pizza boxes in her direction and she caught them. “Well, see you around.”

It seemed like Rose was eager to leave, Albus hadn’t even spoken a single word to her before she was gone. 

“Lovely to see you too, Rose,” Albus muttered, a bit offended. 

Scorpius was staring at the spot she’d been standing in with an expression of confusion. Albus raised one eyebrow. “She had _two_ pizzas!” he exclaimed.

“Um, yeah.”

“Well who’s the second pizza for?” 

“Literally could be anyone, she looked like she could be on the way back to the office. Stop thinking what I know you’re thinking.” 

Scorpius pouted and accepted Albus’ arm so they could apparate home. 

But there was a surprise waiting for them in the middle of the living room, one which Albus would have rather liked to know about before he used side along apparating as an excuse to rub up against Scorpius’ side and nuzzle into his neck. 

“Dad! And Mum, hi.” Albus withdrew to a more reasonable distance for having company. 

“Hello,” his mum said pleasantly from where she was sitting comfortably on his sofa as if this were prearranged. His dad looked less relaxed. 

“Oh, good evening to you, Ginny. And Harry, hello.” Scorpius said. 

“This is an odd time for you to be at our house,” Albus pointed out, eyeing his mum suspiciously as he took off his coat and held his hand out for Scorpius’. 

“We missed Scorpius at the twins’ party.” She held up her hand when Scorpius immediately opened his mouth to apologise and explain he’d had work. “No, we understand. But we still missed you.”

“Just thought we’d pop round,” his dad said, with so much forced joviality it was actually laughable. Albus cringed and went to hang their coats up. 

“Thanks for popping round. Would anyone like tea? Coffee? Sparkling water?” Scorpius walked backwards towards the kitchen, ever the host. 

“No thank you, Scorpius. We won’t stay long.” 

“Is something wrong?” Albus nervously lowered himself into the armchair, trying to read their expressions. 

Ginny and Harry shared a glance. She scooted to the very end of the sofa, so she could reach Albus’ hand, which she took softly. Albus felt his heart rate increase, suddenly worried they’d come to deliver terrible news. 

“What? What is it?” he asked urgently.

“Er, where did Scorpius get to?” his dad said in a strange voice, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. “We should wait for him to…” 

“Yes, we should.” His mum smiled and made a point of squeezing his hand lovingly, like she was psyching herself up for whatever she was about to say.

“Are James and Lily alright?” he asked quickly. “Is it Grandad? Is he okay?” 

Scorpius came over with a mug of tea, appeared to read the room and put it down instantly (on a nearby coaster) so he could stride across to Albus’ side. He sat on the back of the armchair and put a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “What is it?” 

“Is Grandad okay?” Albus asked urgently, his parents’ sombre expressions filling him with sudden dread.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” Harry said gruffly. “Everyone is fine.” 

His mum let go of his hand and Albus let out a small sigh of relief, coupled with annoyance that his overly dramatic parents couldn’t have led with _everyone is fine._

“We just need to talk to you both,” Ginny glanced over at Harry, “to apologise really.” 

“Um, okay,” said Albus suspiciously, reaching across his body to take Scorpius’ hand. 

“I hope you don’t feel like we’ve been pressuring you to rush into any decisions about having children. I know it’s come up a few times recently, in conversation, but-“

“You haven’t been pressuring us!” Scorpius said quickly, his grip on Albus’ hand tightening. “I’ve felt precisely no pressure whatsoever and I’m sure Albus feels the same.” 

Albus nodded furiously. “It’s really okay, Mum.” 

“Right. It’s just… Lily mentioned your moving plans to us. And while I know you always enjoyed our holidays to California as a child, have you really thought about how much you’ll be uprooting?” 

Albus blinked at her. “Excuse me?” 

“It’s a long way from home,” Harry put in. “It’s not a decision to take lightly.” 

Albus craned his neck to look up at Scorpius, who appeared as confused as he was. 

“Hang on, we’re not moving to California,” Albus said firmly, squeezing Scorpius’ hand which was still on his opposite shoulder. 

His mum sighed. “Did Lily get the wrong end of the wand?” 

“Very much so!” Albus said emphatically. “Not California, definitely not. What the hell, Lil?” 

“But you do want to move?” she said eagerly. 

He exchanged looks with Scorpius who came round to join him on the armchair, Albus squeezing up to make room. Usually, when they shared the armchair, it was with one of them sitting in the other’s lap, but that seemed an odd posture in which to have this conversation with Albus’ parents. 

Albus swallowed hard. “We’ve talked about it. Maybe somewhere a bit bigger, I could expand my workshop. Scor can have the library he’s always dreamed of. Not far from here though. Probably still in London, at a push maybe Surrey? We sort of thought…” Albus drew little circles with his thumb over the back of Scorpius’ hand and hoped he was coming across like a responsible adult. 

“We just feel like we might have outgrown this place,” Scorpius finished succinctly. 

His mum looked thrilled and his dad looked a bit like he regretted coming; knowing him, he probably felt a bit foolish. 

“Well have you found anywhere? Because we’d be happy to help you look.”

“Actually,” Albus cut in quickly, “we’re not looking for somewhere to move to straight away.”

“What do you mean _straight away?_ ” Ginny looked distrustful.

“We want to find a house that we can renovate. Add some more rooms or knock through the walls to make a really lovely open plan space with-” Scorpius seemed to catch himself before he got going. “Er, well, we want it to be absolutely perfect for us. At the moment we’re looking for a place to work on, it’s very early stages, but our architect thinks we can make it happen.”

“You have an _architect?_ Albus?” His mum looked mildly offended this was the first she was hearing of the architect.

“Yes,” Albus sighed. “She’s made some preliminary plans, that’s what Lily _accidentally_ found in my bag. You can see them if you want.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Albus’ dad looked incredibly confused. 

“Just sort of wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit,” Albus shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Draco knows, doesn’t he,” his mum said dryly. 

“Um, well, yes he does,” Scorpius mumbled, looking at the floor.

“But only because he recommended the architect!” Albus put in quickly. 

Ginny narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “Come on then, let’s see these plans.”

Albus exchanged a glance with Scorpius, who nodded. “Okay, but... don’t, like, _read into_ anything too much. This house is somewhere we’ll probably live forever, as in, _way_ into the future.”

His mum nodded. “I understand, the number of bedrooms is not the number of grandchildren we can expect to add to this year’s Christmas present list.” She ruffled his hair fondly.

Albus rolled his eyes. 

* * *

By the time Sunday rolled around, Albus was more than ready to have a lazy day lounging around with Scorpius. But, as expected, he was at work for the foreseeable future, hoping to be back by the afternoon when he’d probably want to sleep anyway. Albus had some tentative plans to do their jigsaw and drink wine together that evening, but he’d made a backup plan in case it fell through; jigsaw and wine by himself felt a lot sadder. 

As it was, Albus was without his husband and out for breakfast with Lily, which thankfully had all gone to plan.

“Did you just say _mushrooms?”_ Albus eyed his little sister suspiciously. “Your coffee is made of mushrooms?” 

“Yep.” Lily casually took a sip. 

They were at the French bakery not far from where Albus and Scorpius lived, _Le Petit Chou_. Lily liked it because she’d made friends with the owner after complimenting her on her vegan macarons; Albus liked it because they didn’t insist on taking your name for an order and then obnoxiously shouting it out when your drink was ready. 

“What’s wrong with coffee made out of… coffee?” Albus asked half heartedly, not even really wanting to know the answer. 

“Try some.” Lily proffered her cup of suspicious coffee, her toadstool earrings swinging back and forth.

Albus wrinkled his nose. “Absolutely not.” 

“Suit yourself.” Lily shrugged and pulled the mug back towards her then she suddenly frowned and looked at him closely. “Why do you look different?”

Bewildered, Albus looked down at himself. “Do I?” 

“Yes,” Lily said, not looking like she was planning to explain. “Why?” 

“What looks different about me?” Albus nervously ran a hand over his beard. 

“I’m trying to place it. Did you get your hair cut or something?” She had her head tilted to one side, observing Albus like he was a photography exhibition. 

“Not since I last saw you,” Albus shrugged. 

Lily’s expression cleared. “You have a huge secret, that’s what looks different.”

Albus felt his face heat up. “What are you on about?”

“You’re keeping something a secret. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me just because I worked it out.” She smiled angelically in that infuriating Lily way. “How are you, anyway?” 

“Oh, fine now,” Albus said, pointedly looking away from Lily. “I recovered from the Mum and Dad interrogation the other night.”

Lily snorted. “Oh, yeah, I suppose I should apologise for that.” 

“Yes, you should.” Albus tried his best to scowl but he was smirking. “You could have at least told them the whole story.” 

“I did!” Lily protested. “I told them you and Scorpius were moving.” 

“They were under the impression we might be planning to leave the country,” Albus sighed. 

“Well, you never said you _weren’t_ leaving the country so I couldn’t say no when they asked!” 

“Lily! You saw the plans for the house.” 

“I did indeed see the plans.” Lily had a sly expression on her face. “A _four bedroom_ house, wasn’t it?” 

Albus narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Now, let’s see,” she held up four fingers. “One bedroom for you and Scorpy,” she put a finger down, “one to turn into your workshop,” another finger down, “I suppose a guest bedroom.” She was left with her index finger sticking up. “But oh? What’s this? An unaccounted for bedroom. I wonder who _this_ could be for! Pepper Imp? Seems a bit excessive to give her her own room, so _who_ could-” 

“Lily,” Albus warned.

“I’m not saying anything else.” Lily held her hands up, a paragon of innocence. “Other than I think it’s a wonderful idea.” 

“Thanks,” Albus said in a dry voice.

Lily smirked. “And if you need to borrow any ovaries, I’m all yours.” 

Albus frowned. “Lil, you can’t just-“

“Oh, relax, I’m joking.” She chuckled lightly and sipped her weird mushroom coffee.

They were far from deciding anything, but Albus knew that there was a good chance he and Scorpius _would_ need to, as Lily put it, _borrow some ovaries._ At least in one way or another. Hearing his sister casually offer that, even as a joke, made Albus squirm with anticipation. 

Lily took another sip of coffee. “Why did you want to meet here, anyway?”

Albus swallowed, aware of the topic he was about to breach. “Ah, well, you know how I run Fleamont’s by myself at the moment?” 

Lily blinked and put her cup down. “Yeah, how’s that going to work if you have a baby?”

“That’s sort of what I’m getting at.” Albus shrugged. 

“Aw, Al, are you asking me to help you? I _am_ quite good at Potions, but I’m quite focused on my yoga studio.” Lily hummed in genuine consideration of the idea. 

Albus blinked at her. “Not where I was going with that, no.” 

“Then what did you mean?” 

“Well, I do want to try bringing someone on board to help me again.” 

Lily tightened her grip on her coffee mug. “Because it went so well last time,” she muttered with an eye roll. “Who did you have in mind? Someone better I’m sure, maybe Melissa Lockhart or Rita Skeeter or actual Lord Voldemort himself?” She laughed sarcastically. 

As much as he knew his sister was trying to be funny, Albus suddenly worried that he’d made a huge mistake even having this idea. His concern seemed to show in his expression because Lily’s face suddenly softened and she patted the top of his hand where it rested on the table.

“Sorry, I’m joking. Carry on.” 

Albus hesitated for just a second, hoping this didn’t backfire massively. “I want to hire Finley Boot to come and work for me.” A pause, Lily was expressionless. “If that’s okay… with you, I mean.” 

Lily blinked then threw back her head and laughed. “Albus! Of course it’s okay with me. Why are you even asking?” 

Albus frowned; he thought it was obvious why he was asking. “Well… because he’s your ex-boyfriend.” 

She chuckled and waved a hand casually. “From, like, _years_ ago. It was just a schooldays relationship.” She gazed out of the window for a second. “Wow, I haven’t thought about Finley Boot for a long time,” she said a bit wistfully.

“It’s just that I went and married my schooldays relationship,” Albus said defensively. “I didn’t want it to be weird for you if you came round or something and ran into each other.” 

Lily shook his shoulder gently. “It wouldn’t be weird, we broke up so long ago and even then it was such a friendly, mutual, healthy way to break up.” 

She was staring at a point over Albus’ shoulder unseeingly and had tightened her grip considerably.

“Um, Lil. Ow.” 

“Sorry.” Lily withdrew her hand and started to play with her hair. “Just puts things into perspective, doesn’t it.” 

Albus smiled at her sadly, not sure what to do other than nod in agreement.

“This is great though!” Lily perked up suddenly. “My tarot did indicate a piece of the past would resurface this month, but I thought that was going to be linked to something else. This is a much more wholesome interpretation.” She grinned. “Thanks, Al.”

“Er, you’re welcome.” He sipped his coffee. “So it’s alright with you?” 

“Yes! Definitely alright. What’s Finley even doing these days?” 

Albus smirked. “He works for Marem and Masters. I want to poach him, make him a job offer he can’t refuse.” 

“You’re such a Slytherin,” Lily laughed.

“What would a Gryffindor do?”

Lily thought for a second. “Probably kidnap.” 

“I like mine best.” Albus chuckled. “Less risk of Azkaban.”

“I’m sure he’d love to work for you.” Lily sighed wistfully. “I wonder if he still wears those cute little square glasses.”

“Not a clue, that’s not really why I want to hire him, to be honest.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance to work with you again.” 

“What do you mean _again?_ Finley and I have never worked with each other before.”

Lily looked at him like he was mad. “Um, yes you did, in the first ever year of W.A.C.” She sighed in faint annoyance.

Albus chuckled. “Oh yeah, _whack.”_

Lily poked him in the shoulder. “It’s not called _whack._ You’re literally a paid member!”

“Because Poppy gives me discounts on her ingredients,” Albus smirked at her.

Lily pointedly looked away from him with a noise of offence.

“ _And_ because I support my little sister in all her endeavours,” Albus added in a bored voice to which Lily grinned. “How’s the search for a studio going?” 

She pulled a face. “Not well. Every space I’ve looked at that I can afford is completely uninspiring. It’s like, I want this to be more than just somewhere you can take a yoga class, ‘cause that’s what I do now, you know? I want it to feel like its own separate space, like a clearing in a massive forest sort of vibe.”

Albus hummed in consideration. “I’m not sure you’ll convince any of your yummy mummies to travel all the way to an abandoned forest for a yoga lesson.”

“Just watch me.” Lily stuck her tongue out at him. “And all the mums in my class loved you that time.”

Albus scowled at his sister. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.” 

“For _what?”_ Lily asked with genuine innocence.

“For failing to tell me that it was an _antenatal_ yoga class you’d forced me into coming along to.”

“You were so tense, and you can’t deny it helped,” Lily protested. “To be honest, Al, you look as if you could do with coming again. Is something up?”

He sighed deeply. “Not really, it’s just hard Scorpius being away so much. I miss him.”

Lily performed a suitably sad expression. “Are you still coming to Sunday dinner tonight?” 

“Yeah.” Albus sighed heavily. “I’ll be coming by myself again but I’ll be there. Where is it this week?”

“Mum and Dad’s,” Lily said. “I think Dad might tell us where we’re going on holiday.” A sudden thought seemed to strike her. “Do you think Scorpius is still going to be able to come with us?” 

Albus felt his eyebrows shoot up. “I hadn’t even considered that! I suppose if the epidemic gets any worse…” He fell into thought. 

“Sorry, I’m sure that won’t happen!” Lily said quickly.

Albus thought about how stressed Scorpius had been recently, the stories he was bringing home from work about the growing number of Stage Two cases, and nodded weakly at his sister.

“Yeah, I’m sure it won’t.”

* * *

It was an uncharacteristically bright day, barely a cloud in the sky. As if the alley wasn’t magical enough in comparison to the muggle street Albus had walked to get there, cherry blossom petals drifted about like snowflakes, collecting in the doorways of shops and scattering themselves over shoppers. He watched a little girl chase after a blossom, her hands outstretched and a joyous smile appearing on her face when the petal came zooming towards her. Albus grinned to himself at the sight. 

He squinted against the sun, holding his hand up to shield his eyes and wishing he’d thought to bring sunglasses. Diagon Alley was fairly quiet as it was a Tuesday afternoon, but Albus knew his final destination would be somewhat busier, even if not as many people knew about it. He checked he still had his list in his pocket and looked up and down the street. 

“Good afternoon, Albus.” Draco came striding towards him. 

The last thing Albus had expected was for Draco to be wearing sunglasses. 

“Oh, hi, Draco.” Albus moved his hand to further shield his eyes. “Forgot mine,” he gestured to Draco’s sunglasses. 

“I could make a copy, if you’d like?” Draco took them off and reached for his wand. 

“Oh, no, it’s alright, you don’t have t-“

A swift tap and Draco now held two identical pairs of sunglasses, one of which he handed to Albus. “Should last the rest of the day.”

“Thank you.” Albus put them on quickly, feeling himself blush just a little bit. He liked his father-in-law very much and knew his occasionally intimidating air was all for show and part of his wicked sense of humour, but Albus had never quite shaken the desire to impress his boyfriend’s dad. He meant the world to Scorpius and that meant it was important to Albus that Draco approved of him. 

Thankfully, they got on so well that it wasn’t uncommon for them to spend time together without Scorpius these days. 

“Very smart,” Draco said with a nod at the sunglasses. “Come on, I’ve heard rumours of fresh Spine of Lionfish today.” 

Albus nodded and followed him towards the side street they were heading to: Peddlers Pass, home to the best fresh potion ingredient market in England. It took place on the last Tuesday of every month, and it had become a regular occurrence for Draco and Albus to go together. Albus went to stock up on ingredients for Fleamont’s, and Draco went with him after Albus’ first solo attempt in which he ended up horribly swindled by several of the sellers.

Draco had been furious and insisted on coming with him the next time, and it had turned out to be so enjoyable that they’d made a habit of it. Scorpius loved it and referred to the occasion as their _special_ _time_. 

The entrance to Peddlers Pass was concealed behind a large, velvet curtain which Draco pulled back with a dusty sweep. It stemmed from a tradition that the market was a closely guarded secret shared only with famed potioneers and elusive alchemists but these days it wasn’t such an exclusive affair. In fact, there was a jaunty sign advertising that day’s market with a large pointing finger directing anyone passing to _lift back the curtain and come on in!_ so Albus assumed they kept it there for the aesthetic more than anything. 

He ducked just slightly to enter the narrow alleyway, Draco following behind him; he was impressively tall and had to duck considerably more than Albus did. A short way in, the alleyway widened considerably until the winding path of Peddlers Pass came into view. The cobblestones snaked off into the distance, flanked either side by market stalls of all colours, most with patterned awnings and bright signage. There was always a sense of unspoken competition between the sellers at the potion market as many were selling similar ingredients. With just one glance, Albus’ eyes fell on three different claims to be selling _the world’s finest essence of dewdrop._

A dried herb stall he hadn’t seen before immediately caught his eye, if not for the attractive bunches of lavender dangling in a neat row and tied with pale lilac ribbons. He made a mental note to pick one up for Scorpius who would no doubt think of some creative use for the decoration in their flat. It would look pretty hanging over Pepper Imp’s teacup if nowhere else and she’d absolutely lose her little mind to be gifted such a thing. 

“Right, have you brought a list?” Draco removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the front pocket of his robes. 

“Yep, got it here.” Albus removed the parchment list from his pocket and showed it to Draco, hoping he’d spelled all the ingredients correctly. 

“Now, what are the peruvian pocket peppers for?”

“A new experiment I have in mind,” Albus said cryptically. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

It was pretty much customary now for them to end a market trip with a stop off at The Little Leprechaun - who in Draco and Albus’ opinion did objectively the best espresso in wizarding London - for some refreshments and a suitably geeky discussion about what they’d just bought together. 

“I can hardly wait,” Draco said with a slight smirk. 

Albus started off at one of his favourite stalls, Gillingwater’s, which sold the best bitterroot he’d found outside of North America (prompting Draco to fondly bring up the time Albus was almost arrested at a portkey office in California for unknowingly attempting to bring an illegal quantity of the plant back to England). He had a trade deal with Gillingwater, the merchant who grew the bitterroot, and sold him Fleamont’s potions at a reduced rate in exchange for a discount on fresh ingredients. 

“Anything else for you today, Albus?” Gillingwater said, starting to bag up the usual five pounds of bitterroot Albus always purchased. 

“Thanks, Gill. Have you got any jewelweed in season yet?” 

Gilingwater shook his head. “Not for a coupl’a weeks.”

Albus consulted his list. “Yeah, I thought it was too early. Just some dittany and bursting mushroom for today, then.” 

“How ripe d’ya need the mushrooms? I’ve got lots from last week that didn’t sell up in Sheffield. Can do them for you cheap.”

“That’ll work, I’m drying them out.”

Draco was tapping his chin in thought.

“Do you often find they don’t sell up there?” Draco gestured to the ripe bursting mushrooms Gill was tying with twine.

The seller shook his head. “Nah, not much trade for ‘em. Do better in the south west, these.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Draco looked him in the eye. “I think these might sell splendidly at my local market.”

“Where’s tha’?”

“Wiltshire. Right in the countryside. Let me give you a contact card.” He reached for a smart card and handed it to the merchant.

“You affiliated with the Guild?” 

“Not at present, but if my information is correct, this very market we’re standing in isn’t affiliated with the Guild either.”

“This is London though, mate. All them rural markets’ve got to be with the Guild to be worth going.” 

“We get an awful lot of trade,” Draco offered. “We just need more variety of products. Think about it?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” The merchant pocketed the card. 

“Thanks, Gill.” Albus handed over the right amount of sickles for the brown paper bag of plants. “I sent your order out this morning, by the way. Should be with you by the evening.”

“Cheers, Albus.” He pocketed the sickles into the canvas apron he was wearing and gave them both a cheery wave.

“What’s the Guild?” Albus asked as they walked on.

Draco sighed. “The _Wizarding Gentleman’s Farmers’ Market Guild._ It’s an organisation that’s been going a while, it’s not ministry affiliated or in any way official but it’s fairly well-known and, well, as you heard, it brings a certain prestige. Sellers know they’re guaranteed a big crowd at a market that the Guild are supporting.” 

“Will they not support your market in Wiltshire?” 

“They would, in fact they’re keen to. They want me to become a member so they can endorse our market in Wiltshire.”

“Well that’s good, it sounds like it would be right up your street!” Albus said with a snort of laughter.

“As pleased as I am that you think so highly of me, Albus,” he said bluntly but softened it with a smile, “I’m not going to join.” 

Albus frowned. “Okay, I’m confused. Do we like this Guild or not?” 

“The Guild are somewhat… set in their ways. If they take on our market in Wiltshire, all decisions then fall to Guild members but unfortunately, the name is rather literal; they’ll only accept wizards as members. I just so happen to be the only wizard on our committee at the moment.” He shrugged. 

“I’m not exactly following.”

“It wouldn’t be very fair of me to hand over the market that the witches on the committee have worked on for years to the Guild who won’t even let them become members.” 

“When you said _Wizarding Gentleman_ I thought that might just be an outdated name.” Albus shrugged. 

“Unfortunately not. They invited me to their Christmas Ball last year and sent two tickets, one expressly labelled as being for _the lady._ ” He frowned. “Rest assured, I did not attend.” 

Albus hesitated. He was never very good at these kinds of sensitive topics and wasn’t overly sure how to respond to Draco mentioning his dead wife. 

Draco seemed to pick up on Albus’ predicament because he smiled wryly. “I meant, because it wasn’t great of them to simply assume all their invitees would be bringing _a lady._ I drafted a response pointing out that my own son was married to a man and have they heard of heteronormativity but managed to find the self control to file it away instead of sending.” 

Albus snorted with laughter, knowing full well it had been Scorpius who had taught his dad the word _heteronormativity_. “Good point.” 

“Ah,” Draco said, looking at a stall further ahead. “Here’s that spine of lionfish.”

After some more browsing and shopping and Draco handing out no less than five cards for his market (to the same sorts of responses as Gill had given), they called it a day and headed to their favourite corner table at The Little Leprechaun. Albus had his pocket peruvian peppers laid out on the table and had just finished explaining his new experiment to Draco. 

He looked impressed. “I don’t know how you do it all by yourself, Albus.”

“Actually, it’s not going to be just me anymore.”

Draco raised an eyebrow in question. “Oh?”

“No. I hired someone. Finley Boot, he’s been working for Marem and Masters but I knew him in school and he’s too good for them. I wanted him working with me.” 

“Spoken like a true Slytherin,” Draco said proudly. “I’m sure he’s excellent. You wouldn’t let just anyone near your business.” 

“Never again.” Albus shuddered, thinking of Fergus. “No, I can trust Finley to brew the way I do. He’s going to come on board full time.”

“Does this mean you’ll be able to start having days off?” 

Albus blushed. “That’s the idea. I think it’s a good idea for one of us to have a bit more free time, especially with the house hunt. Poor Scorpius is swamped and our architect is getting antsy.” 

“And because you want to have a baby,” Draco said casually, sipping his coffee.

Albus almost knocked the neat row of peppers onto the coffee shop floor. 

“What? How did you know?” Albus squeaked. 

“Scorpius isn’t particularly great at subtlety. It was a trait he certainly inherited from his mother over me.” 

“Scorpius told you?”

“Not that he’s aware of,” Draco smirked then his face softened. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. The two of you… you would make excellent parents.” 

Albus felt his ears burn; he wasn’t sure what to say. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “Will you let Scorpius tell you, though? He’s excited.” 

“Of course,” Draco said knowingly. “I’m sure he has a speech in progress.” 

“It’s more of a manifesto, but yes,” Albus nodded. 

“Well, I know it isn’t going to be straightforward for the two of you. But we’re here, all of us.” Draco had quite a telling expression on his face.

“Have you been speaking to my parents about this?” Albus asked suspiciously. 

“The topic may have arisen briefly,” Draco said, not making direct eye contact as he placed his cup back on the table. 

“Well, thank you. That means a lot, Draco.” Albus fiddled with the rim of the sunglasses perched on his head. “There’s… well, there’s a lot to decide.” 

“Perhaps you would benefit from discussing it with a couple like you who’ve been through the process already?”

Albus nodded slowly. “That’s a good idea actually, I wonder if we could ask…” He stopped himself and grinned sheepishly. “I need to talk to Scorpius about this at home.”

“By all means.” Draco smiled. “You know I’m always more than happy to talk anything through with you both.”

Albus smiled appreciatively, unsure what to say. Draco seemed to pick up on his discomfort.

“Scorpius is going to love that lavender bundle,” he said, changing the subject with a sly grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so blown away by all the love for this story so far, thank you SO much for reading! we're really starting to get into the plot now, and Draco made his first appearance, there will be more of him :) 
> 
> I hope you liked hearing more about Albus' tattoos, I had a few questions about them! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the ones mentioned in this chapter (some have hidden meanings) and special thanks to majestic-aquarian who gave me the idea of the supernova star, in honour of the first time Albus and Scorpius held hands (and all their other Astronomy tower, telescope related shenanigans of fifth year)
> 
> follow me on instagram: littlerose13writes, we've started doing weekly q&a things and it's so funnnn  
> tumblr: littlerose13writes, I'm always happy to answer asks on there!
> 
> til next week xx


	5. Chapter 4 - Trousers and Toast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist: [Paper Rings - Taylor Swift](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8zdg-pDF10g)

It was the middle of a busy Thursday at the hospital and as Scorpius entered the staff room to make a much needed cup of tea, his eye was immediately drawn to the notice board, at the centre of which was a newspaper article. Over the article, a bright pink strip of parchment emblazoned with a handwritten message: _a reminder: NOBODY IS TO TALK TO THE PRESS._

His heart sinking, Scorpius pushed the pink parchment to one side so he could read the fairly short article. 

_Thursday 1st May, 2031_

_BLACK CAT FLU RESISTANT TO POTION, TOP HEALERS FEAR_

_Our society is in the midst of a medical crisis, with the BCF epidemic now affecting over 65% of wizarding children in Britain. Despite St Mungo’s best efforts to catch the disease in its early stages, many children have been stuck in quarantine for weeks on end. Although problematic, it was believed that the situation was in hand due to the Ministry funded potion, supposedly the only thing able to cure the disease._

_However, it has recently come to light that this potion isn’t as miraculous as we once thought. It relies on highly expensive Granian hair, which, while effective the first time, will eventually become useless if presented to the same patient too many times._

_According to an inside source, the potion has less of an effect on the magical system each time it is used, with three full courses thought to be enough to build complete resistance in the average magical child._

_With rumours of reinfection already occurring, this begs the question: what happens when our first child comes down with the disease three times? How will we save them?_

_We approached St Mungo’s for comment and were informed that procedures are in place to combat this potential problem, but that they were under closely guarded secrecy. Here at the Prophet we feel it is the right of parents to share in this information and we will be doing everything we can to obtain these plans and distribute them to the public._

Scorpius didn’t tend to use swear words but in that moment he found a few of Albus’ choice favourites crossing his mind. 

He didn’t understand how the Prophet was allowed to keep printing articles like this. While fairer than the last, it was still bound to reduce the public’s trust in their testing and treatments. The last thing they needed was for parents to become so mistrustful of the cure potion that they refused to let their Stage Two child be given it. 

So far, it hadn’t happened, but Scorpius was fearful that one of these days, something would go wrong and a child would advance from Stage Two to the dreaded Stage Three BCF. While Stage Two was characterised by the whisker-like growths on the patient’s face, Stage Three was a really scary increase. The patient’s eyes became affected, changing shape and colour until they resembled those of a black cat. It was the origin of the disease’s name, but Scorpius had thankfully only ever seen it in his textbooks. Stage Three BCF was thought to be incurable, putting the patient at risk of internal magical explosions for the rest of their life. 

_But that’s not going to happen,_ Scorpius insisted to himself, shaking his head to rid himself of the thought. His morning had been eventful but pleasant up until this point: Benjamin was responding well to his Dragon Pox cure, Essie’s fever had finally broken and he’d been called to assist with the birth of a second twin. Despite it being his everyday job, it still brought tears to Scorpius’ eyes when he witnessed the moment a parent first held their newborn baby. 

His tea steeped, Scorpius vanished the teabag and sat at the staff room table for a few minutes, writing Lily’s birthday card and pointedly ignoring the Prophet article pinned above his head. 

Scorpius carefully sealed the envelope, watching the baby dragons sketched on the outside scamper around his fingertips. He was quite proud of the birthday card he’d chosen for his sister-in-law, he knew she’d love it. The message he’d written inside was heartfelt and he’d tried to be quite sweet, gaining a bit of amusement at signing it from Albus too. Lily would know it had been Scorpius only; Albus was more of a speak-in-person type. 

He deposited the card into the postbox in the main reception area of the hospital. With St Mungo’s being such a big establishment, it had its own postbox, collected from by official post owls once a day. Scorpius dropped two silver sickles into the slot in the top of the post box: the cost of sending a letter was only one sickle, but he always put in two to make up for anyone who forgot or tried to get away with not paying. 

His lunch break almost over, Scorpius checked his watch with an excited hum. It wasn’t just the postbox which had him hanging around the reception area and he was so looking forward to the afternoon he had planned for his ward. The look on Betsy’s face was going to be priceless and would cheer her up so much after the tough time she’d been having. An allergic reaction to a sleeping draught on top of having BCF in the first place had left the poor girl understandably miserable. 

Scorpius tried not to pace, getting a touch antsy the longer he waited. He really hoped this wasn’t going to fall through and he was half expecting an albatross to materialise any second cancelling the visit. But instead, the glass doors shone as someone entered the hospital, and Scorpius lit up as he saw one of his oldest friends.

“Scorpius!” 

They hugged warmly and Scorpius withdrew with a huge grin. “Hi, Thea, it’s so good to see you!” 

Thea Jordan was as put together as she always was, managing to look like she’d just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine in a white chiffon blouse and flowing black trousers. Her smile was as genuine as ever

“I’ve missed you, Scorp,” she said with a sigh, tucking a tight coil of black hair behind her ear. She wore it in its natural curls these days, a far cry from the sleek, high ponytail she’d favoured when they were at school. “I’m so excited to be here!”

“They’re going to be so surprised.” Scorpius smiled and gestured for them to leave together. 

“I’m a surprise?” Thea followed Scorpius towards the lifts. “That makes me feel unnecessarily important.”

“Well, I didn’t want to mention it to them in case…” He trailed off, not wanting to imply he’d worried she wouldn’t turn up. 

“I get it, don’t worry. Sorry I’ve been rubbish at writing recently. I leave for tour next month and it’s wild,” Thea chatted, looping her arm through Scorpius’ like she had ever since they were Prefects together. “How’s it all going here?”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve been rubbish too. This epidemic is no joke,” Scorpius laughed as they stepped into the lift. 

“You look great, by the way. That hairstyle really suits you,” she said genuinely, doing that thing Thea did where she made unwavering eye contact. 

“Thanks.” Scorpius smiled, blushing a little. “It’s just meant to be practical, keeps it out of my eyes.” He shrugged. “Albus calls it my _work hair_.”

Thea smiled. “How _is_ Albus? I haven’t seen him in too long.”

Scorpius tried to refrain from letting a soppy smile cross his face, but Thea of course spotted it and smirked. “Yeah, he’s good,” he said nonchalantly. 

“Good, we should all get dinner soon,” she said offhandedly and for a second, Scorpius pictured previous dinners, laughing over wine on double dates with Thea and Rose. Thea widened her eyes just a fraction. “The three of us, have a proper catch up.” 

The lift reached the third floor, where the paediatric department was located. Scorpius was glad of the distraction, making a big show of stepping out and into the reception area. Thea followed him, seeming to be equally aware of what she’d just said but neither of them mentioned it. 

“When do you leave for tour?” 

“Not until the beginning of June. We’ve got this big charity ball tomorrow night, it’s an annual thing but this is the seventy-fifth anniversary,” Thea explained. 

“Sounds fancy.” 

“It is, all dress robes and a posh dinner and all that.” Thea shrugged. “It’s a huge deal.”

“I’d quite like that,” Scorpius mused. “Albus wouldn’t, but he’d be my plus one regardless.” 

Thea stopped walking and momentarily looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, then she dropped her head into her waiting hand with an exaggerated sigh, her curls bouncing. “Of course, why didn’t I think to take you along? It’s just your scene. And you’re married, it would have been perfect.”

“What?” Scorpius raised his eyebrows in confusion.

She grinned apologetically. “Everyone brings plus ones to this ball, like a date or whatever, and the press are going crazy trying to _predict_ who I’m going to take. It’s like my private life is just fair game.” Thea shook her head.

“They’re so invasive, I’m sorry.”

“Anyway, they’ll write something about whoever I take, probably spin it into some farfetched love triangle, so I’m bringing Cole. He’ll find it funny if they write about him and there’s no way anyone who knows us would believe we could ever be romantically involved.”

Scorpius clutched at his heart with a dramatic sigh. “And what was third year, Thea? A frivolous game?”

Thea reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “He said you went to that new bar where they have the mini Quidditch games?”

“Oh, yes we did! Last month, I actually somehow managed to win.” Scorpius couldn’t help a proud smile crossing his face.

“I still haven’t been! Can I come with next time?” She sounded casual enough, her arm still looped through Scorpius’, but he got the impression she felt a bit uninvited. 

“Yes, of course,” Scorpius said quickly, feeling awkward, because the truth was Thea _hadn’t_ been invited. “Maybe we could go again when you’re back from tour? Things should have calmed down here by then.” _Hopefully,_ he added in his head.

“You poor thing, it seems like it’s just awful for you right now.”

“The kids keep my spirits up,” Scorpius shrugged cheerfully. “We’re doing it for them.” 

“I can’t wait to meet them.” Thea grinned in excitement. 

“We’re almost there, just this way.” He directed her towards the paediatric department welcome desk. “Hi, Idika, I’d like to check a visitor in, please.”

Idika smiled widely at Thea. “Our special guest,” she said with glittering eyes. “We’re so glad you could make it. I’ve got your visitor badge all ready, I just need your wand quickly for ID. You can take it out of the cover.”

“Thanks for having me! Don’t worry, I won’t use it.” Thea slipped the cover off and handed her wand over to Idika, who’d already passed the visitor badge back over the desk. It read _Thea Jordan, Paediatrics, Approved Visitor, 1 May 2031._

“Are you planning to go into Scorpius’ ward too?” Idika asked as she ran an identification charm over Thea’s wand.

Thea blinked. “I thought this was Scorpius’ ward.” 

“She means neonatal, the babies,” Scorpius explained and turned to Idika. “Most likely not, but I’ll let you know if anything changes. My infants aren’t that up to date with the British Quidditch League.” He laughed lightly. 

Idika handed Thea her wand back and she smiled. “Your _infants_ , you’re so cute, Scorp.” 

Scorpius blushed and checked his watch. “Come on, it takes nearly ten minutes to prepare to enter quarantine.”

Preparations complete, they made it into the quarantine ward, which was calmer than it had been that morning. Lots of the children were sleeping - one of the side effects of the Granian tincture was drowsiness - and a Healer Nurse was quietly reading a story over in the corner. 

“This is Betsy, wait there a second,” Scorpius quietly instructed and Thea nodded as he left her waiting, approaching one of the beds. “Hello, Betsy. I have someone who wants to meet you.”

Betsy looked up from the colouring she was working on and frowned. “Meet me?”

“Yes, she’s come all the way from _Holyhead._ ”

Betsy gasped and threw her colouring haphazardly to one side, sitting bolt upright and looking around. 

At a gentle nod from Scorpius, Thea stepped forward with a friendly smile, not unlike the one Scorpius remembered seeing her give the younger students when they were prefects together. 

“Hi, Betsy, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re _Thea Jordan!”_ Betsy said with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Thea laughed. “Well, I heard you weren’t feeling very well and I thought to myself, _hmm, what cheers me up when I’m sad?_ Usually it’s flying so I thought you might like this.”

She reached into her shoulder bag and removed a shiny covered booklet which Scorpius recognised as the Holyhead Harpies season programme. He and Albus didn’t hold season tickets but they always ended up with one in the house somehow. The centrefold opened to reveal a magical, three-dimensional floating model of the pitch with the team line up circling above it. 

“Wow!” Betsy’s eyes widened and she wriggled to sit upright in her bed. She peered at one of the little floating figures. “Is that you?” 

Thea nodded and placed the programme into Betsy’s hands. 

“I’ll be back in just a second,” Scorpius said quietly, leaving the two of them deep in a discussion about the starting line up for that season.

Scorpius conversed quickly with a Healer nurse on the ward to make sure she had remembered Thea was coming and together they made a quick note of all the children on the ward who would want to talk to her, some of whom were napping. The Healer nurse left to gently wake some of them up and Scorpius took the opportunity, as he always did when coming into the quarantine ward, to check on Harmony. 

Harmony spent most of her time sleeping, her little body exhausted from all the stress it was under. But right now she was awake, sitting brightly on the lap of a Healer nurse who was reading a book to her. Because she was so young and so unwell, Harmony had an individual Healer nurse assigned to her care at all times. 

_“And the big, old bird said_ ‘but I want to be a Hippogriff!’ _and the little, shy horse said_ ‘count me in!’.” The Healer nurse read from the book to delighted noises from Harmony. It was the most animated Scorpius had ever seen her and it made his heart swoop. 

The Healer nurse noticed Scorpius and smiled but he kept reading as Scorpius checked the communication chart at the end of Harmony’s bed. She’d fitted that morning but thankfully for a shorter time. Flicking back through the days though, Scorpius sighed as he noticed there was still no pattern emerging to her fits. She was recovering from BCF at a slower rate than they were seeing with the older children, but he did keep reminding himself that she was at least recovering. 

The Healer nurse reached the end of the short story and Harmony bounced about on his lap. Then she spotted Scorpius and reached up with both arms. 

“Hi, Harmony.” Scorpius picked her up, feeling the familiar overwhelming sense of happiness when any of the babies reached for him like that. “Oh, you found my badge.”

Harmony patted the badge gently with her hand.

“She’s been quite lively this morning,” the Healer nurse said, putting the storybook carefully back on the shelf behind Harmony’s bed. 

“She seems it,” Scorpius agreed, looking at Harmony who was still playing with his badge. “Hi, Harmony. How are you doing today? Do you want to meet Thea?” he joked, and Harmony smiled at him widely. 

“Thea?” the Healer nurse asked.

“Thea Jordan, from the Hol-”

“Holyhead Harpies,” he filled in, his eyes lighting up. “Is she here?” 

Scorpius laughed softly. “Yes, visiting the kids. Are you a fan of the Harpies?”

He nodded fervently. “Huge. I once-”

His sentence stopped abruptly, his eyes fixed on Harmony in Scorpius’ arms and Scorpius could tell by the look on his face what was happening. Immediately, Scorpius checked Harmony’s eyes and felt his heart sink when he saw they were beginning to roll back, indicating she was in the beginnings of a seizure. Quickly, he changed the way was holding Harmony, cradling her in his arms, tilting her head downwards and immediately tapping his badge once to start timing the fit. Her whole body was rigid in his arms and her limbs twitched. 

His heart ached as he stroked the back of her head with one hand, listening carefully for the sound of her breathing. The Healer nurse had quickly pulled the curtains around Harmony’s bed (although the other children on the ward were fairly used to this happening now) and was arranging the pillows on the bed to leave a flat space in the centre. 

“Poor thing can’t go more than two hours without one,” he said sadly in a quiet voice.

Scorpius stayed still, holding her carefully and keeping his attention firmly fixed on Harmony’s breathing. 

Eventually, her body relaxed and Scorpius lay her down on her back on the bed, tapping his badge again to stop the timer. He drew his wand, slipped the stripy cover from it and immediately mustered all his strength to cast the powerful and invasive charm to get inside Harmony’s magical system. Her eyes closed and her limbs lay splayed open as several bright shapes appeared above her, Scorpius scanning them rapidly to assess where he was going to direct the intensive charm therapy Harmony now needed. 

The seizure was a sign that Harmony’s magical system had become overloaded in some way so Scorpius had to use a complex set of different charms, all in very quick succession, to calm and heal the area. There wasn’t time to say incantations, he had to use non-verbal magic and constantly react to the changing scene in front of him to make sure he was choosing the right charms. 

His head felt heavy and his eyes started to water as he kept his gaze fixed on the reflection of Harmony’s magical system. Every muscle ached and his mouth was uncomfortably dry as he continued to channel charm after charm into her little body, slowly but surely watching the point of overload subside to a safe level. Scorpius felt like his skull was about to split open as the last few spells left his wand and he let out an enormous sighing breath. 

Harmony opened her eyes and began to cry and, despite wanting to do nothing more than collapse in a darkened room, Scorpius picked her up and held her close to him. 

“Shhh,” he whispered soothingly, more out of instinct than anything. Harmony’s cries were a good sign because they meant she was past the fit. 

The Healer nurse was scribbling on her communication chart, recording the incident and he glanced up at Scorpius. “I made that forty-five seconds,” he said quietly. 

Scorpius tapped his badge so that it would display his own reading. He nodded. “Yep, I have that too. They’ve been that short for a couple of days now.” 

“What do you think that means?” he wondered aloud.

Scorpius didn’t have remotely enough energy left to wonder with him. He rocked Harmony back and forth until her cries subsided and she fell asleep in his arms. He looked up, not having realised the curtains around Harmony’s bed were open. 

Thea was holding Betsy’s hand as she proudly led her around the ward, introducing her to the other children. She caught Scorpius’ eye with a helpless expression and glanced down at Harmony in his arms. 

Scorpius shrugged as if to say this was just a normal day; Thea looked a little shellshocked but she immediately gave an enthusiastic exclamation at something Betsy told her, allowing herself to be taken away. 

Harmony wriggled in her sleep and Scorpius lay her down, checking all her monitoring charms were intact. The Healer nurse was scribbling on her chart and Scorpius patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, leaving to go back onto the quarantine ward. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his body throbbing with aches and his magical system exhausted. There was a pre-measured dose of revitalising potion waiting for him for this very eventuality but Scorpius wished he could also take a quick swig of the Draught of Peace too, he was so tightly wound. It was miraculous when he was feeling anxious but Albus had to make it for him in fresh doses, he remembered sadly. The revitalising potion would have to do. 

Thea spent another hour with the children, ending with most of them surrounding her in gripped fascination as she talked about what it had been like to play in the World Cup. The children made her and Scorpius promise that Thea would come back again soon and she was only too happy to agree. 

Scorpius’ revitalising potion had kicked in and he happily walked her back to the paediatric reception desk where she returned her name badge to Idika. 

“Thanks, Scorp, for letting me come by today. It really does mean a lot to me.” 

“Thank _you_ for taking time out of your busy schedule to come. You really made these kids’ days.” 

Thea waved a hand dismissively. “Oh stop, I just play Quidditch. Not like you, Mr Important Healer, just casually saving children’s lives on a daily basis.” 

Scorpius squirmed uncomfortably at her words, thinking of Harmony. “That makes me sound a lot more impressive than I actually am.”

“I’m very impressed by you, always have been.” She hugged him, holding on for just a second longer than he had expected. “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”

“Of course we are, nothing could change that,” Scorpius said sincerely. 

* * *

The next day, at the weekly crisis meeting, there was a strange atmosphere in the room. Last week’s meeting hadn’t been anywhere near as heated or chaotic as the one before, but now they had the much bigger issue of the rumours of reinfection, so lovingly reported on by the Prophet. There was a gentle hum of chatter around the room, the usual faces at the weekly meeting displaying the usual expressions. Scorpius still couldn’t look Cyril Harrington in the eye without feeling like he was going to get into trouble and he tried hard not to think about his disparaging words over Scorpius’ home testing idea of two weeks ago. 

“Right, let’s make this as quick as possible,” Araminta called the meeting to order. “First, and this is an important one, we want to make wand covers mandatory for everyone with a wand,” Araminta said in an oddly cheerful voice.

“I thought they already were?” somebody said, baffled.

Hermione shook her head. “Only for those aged seventeen and under, at the moment it’s just strongly advised as the safest practice for adults. But the data speaks for itself and it seems sensible to make it a requirement. As you demonstrate,” Hermione nodded to the person who had spoken before, “many adults already treat the guidance as a rule.” 

“Do you think there’ll be backlash to the new rule?” 

“There will be from the likes of the parents trying to take their kids out of Hogwarts during a lockdown,” someone scoffed. 

“Well,” Hermione cleared her throat, “that is the decision. An official announcement will go out to all households this evening outlining the rule and offering Ministry-issued free wand covers for anyone who needs one.” 

Scorpius had an ever-growing collection of wand covers, most in fun patterns and colours, a lot made for him by Lily including one printed with dragons which was Benjamin’s favourite. The only time he didn’t use one was at home with Albus (because they shared magic anyway) and when he was giving Harmony ICT. Everyone he knew did the same thing but it was also true that some people would object to the rule; the crisis was certainly showing the true colours of a few.

“Next on the agenda, the topic of reinfection. Healer Bannister, if you please.” 

Ruth grimaced thinly. “Unfortunately, the rumours reported in the Prophet are founded in truth. This week, we were faced with the first instance of a child who had been previously quarantined and cured returning with symptoms which, once again, turned out to be BCF. It was Stage One this time and she was given treatment, however this demonstrates that having this disease and the full course of treatment doesn’t create a complete immunity. We aren’t sure if we were just quick enough at catching it at Stage One this second time or if the child in question would not have progressed to Stage Two after having it before.”

“And the potion actually worked a second time? The child hadn’t built a resistance?” Harrington said nastily.

Ruth nodded solemnly. “The potion did work. No resistance to the Granian hair, in Stage One treatment quantities anyway.”

“According to research, it takes significantly more exposure for resistance to develop,” one of the potioneers explained. “We predict that a child would need to be given the full, Stage Two course of BCF potion at least three times over for any kind of resistance to appear, and even then it would still take some effect.” 

“That matches what the Prophet reported,” someone muttered from a few seats down.

Harrington bristled. “Or perhaps you need to stop shoving Granian hair into the potion in such vast quantities. You are aware it’s one of the most expensive to source too.”

There was a low whistle from several people at the table. Ruth spoke up. “Forgive me, Mr Harrington, but are you suggesting it’s too _costly_ for us to save an entire generation of magical children? The literal future of our world?” 

“I’m just wondering if Granian hair is the best choice, what with all of its many problems, _including_ the hefty cost. If these children need so many doses for it to work, can’t we find something which makes more economic sense?” 

One of the potioneers raised his hand nervously. “As we explained previously, Granian hair requires an exponential build up to be effective.”

“And we are working tirelessly to find an alternative,” another complained.

Scorpius’ mind began to wander, specifically all the way back to his final year of school, when Albus had spent hours each day looking for his own alternative ingredient. That was what Albus _did,_ it had almost become his niche, taking classic recipes and tweaking an ingredient or two to improve the result. He’d spent most of their seventh year creating a Dragon Pox cure without using dragon scales, this was Albus’ area of expertise. He’d considered putting the St Mungo’s potioneers in contact with his husband, but he’d not wanted to appear like he lacked faith in their abilities, and anyway, Albus was so busy running his business single handedly.

But as Araminta rattled off the statistics for the number of new cases of BCF that week compared to the number of children discharged, Scorpius started to think that maybe he didn’t have a choice. The potioneers looked ready to accept help, it would be in the interest of the strategy and everyone wanted this to succeed.

And Albus _wasn’t_ quite so busy, or at least he wouldn’t be soon. Finley Boot had accepted his offer of employment, he’d come on board with Fleamont’s and would be working for Albus. The idea was Albus would be freed up a bit more and eventually could start taking days off. Days where he could take care of their baby… 

But that was a long way off, and maybe, just maybe, Albus could help them here. 

Scorpius let this thought simmer as the meeting continued and it was still on his mind hours later when he was finishing his shift and getting ready to go home. He thought about bringing the subject up with Albus, picturing a few different ways he might breach it and deciding he needed to think about it very seriously first. The second he mentioned it, Albus would feel obliged to help; he needed to be completely sure it was the right thing to do first. 

The sun streamed across his face, warming it pleasantly. Scorpius was glad he’d made the decision to walk some of the way home, instead of stepping straight into the Floo. It cleared his head and helped him process yet another stressful day. He’d taken his Healer robes off, shrunk them down and put them in his briefcase; this was a muggle park and his lime green wizards’ robes tended to attract a bit of unwanted attention. 

“Look, it’s Scorpy!” 

Not expecting to be greeted in such a way, Scorpius turned in surprise to see Clementine Lupin clambering her way down from the park climbing frame and sprinting over. She grabbed hold of his hand and tugged him across to the swings, where her sister was laughing gleefully. Scorpius thought for a second it was Victoire pushing her until he looked again and realised it was Freya Everfall; their pale blonde hair was incredibly similar.

“Hi!” she said with a kind smile.

“Hello,” Scorpius waved.

“Look at me, I’m flying!” Pippa cried happily. 

“Oh!” Clementine suddenly turned pleading eyes on him. “Does this mean you can push _me_ on the swing, Scorpy?” 

“Clementine,” Freya scolded mildly. “You can wait for it to be your turn. Scorpius is very busy, I’m sure.” 

Scorpius grinned. “I have some time for some swing pushing.” 

Clementine hugged him around the middle and clapped her hands, skipping off and climbing onto the swing. She held onto the chains and watched Scorpius expectantly. 

“That’s nice of you,” Freya commented as he stood next to her and held onto the back of Clementine’s swing. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Scorpius said honestly. 

“We would normally be at Quidditch, but it’s been cancelled for a bit. BCF concerns,” Freya explained. “One of the kids got quarantined yesterday and it put everyone into a panic.”

Scorpius thought for a second. “Cameron? Or Juniper?” 

“Cameron,” Freya confirmed. “Two kids were put in quarantine yesterday?” 

“Unfortunately,” Scorpius sighed, continuing to push Clementine on the swing. “It feels like it’s never going to end.” 

Freya leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “It is going to _eventually_ end though, isn’t it?” 

“Of course,” Scorpius said quickly with a forced laugh. 

Freya narrowed her eyes. “Scorpius, I’m not the Daily Prophet. It wasn’t that long ago I was working at St Mungo’s too, I remember what it’s like.”

He sighed and turned his attention to Clementine for a second before answering. “If we can find a way to cure it without resistance, it’ll end.” A few more pushes. “I bet you don’t miss St Mungo’s at all with this going on.”

She paused and adjusted her t-shirt. “I miss some things about it, leaving wasn’t easy. But it was the right decision.” She nodded firmly. 

“You have a pretty great job now.” Scorpius pushed Clementine to delighted squeals and grinned.

“I do, I really do. I got so lucky. I don’t think I would have left if I hadn’t met Victoire.”

“You knew Vic before?”

“Yeah, that’s how I ended up in this job. We were talking one day, she said they were considering hiring a nanny, I’d just left my job at the hospital. It was perfect.”

Scorpius wanted to ask why she’d left Midwitching, but he couldn’t think of a way to phrase the question which didn’t sound invasive; he didn’t know Freya that well. Just as he was pondering the point, Clementine turned in her swing and called over to Freya.

“Please sing the House Elf song, Freya!” 

“Yippee!” Pippa agreed. 

“Sorry,” Freya said under her breath to Scorpius. 

“Wha-”

“House elf one, house elf all, let’s all do the house elf call!” 

Pippa and Clementine responded with a cacophony of strange noises and Scorpius sighed in understanding, laughing as the song continued and got more and more ridiculous. 

It was nice to remember that there were always pockets of joy and laughter to be found in every day. 

* * *

Albus wasn’t home when Scorpius returned, presumably he was out buying ingredients or at the post office shipping orders. Scorpius was back earlier than usual despite his stop at the park and he enjoyed the quiet of the empty kitchen for a second while he fed Birdy the owl. Pepper Imp came bouncing over to greet him, although she looked momentarily put out that he wasn’t Albus. 

“Only me, Pep, sorry.” Scorpius extended a hand towards her.

Pepper pouted for a second longer then nuzzled his fingertips, chirping in a _you’ll do_ sort of way.

“I know, Albus is my favourite person too,” Scorpius said, scooping her up and dropping her into the pocket at the front of his robes. She squeaked in annoyance and Scorpius fished out the quill nib he’d left in there. “Sorry.” 

Scorpius took Pepper with him into his and Albus’ bedroom, throwing open the wardrobe. “Now, which outfit says _I’m taking the topic of this dinner party very seriously but please don’t serve me fish_?” 

Pepper scampered down the length of Scorpius’ outstretched arm and balanced on the back of his hand. She jumped up and down a few times until Scorpius understood she wanted him to move the clothes in the wardrobe. He flicked through a few hangers until Pepper began to cheep excitedly. 

“Really, Pep? You think I should wear this?” 

It was a pale pink t-shirt with a small iris embroidered onto the front and Albus wore it just as often as Scorpius did. 

Pepper nodded insistently and Scorpius sighed, flicking through more of the hangers until she squeaked again. 

“Those are Al’s,” Scorpius laughed as he watched Pepper Imp hop off his hand and bury herself in the pocket of a pair of Albus’ smart trousers, the ones he wore with robes when he had a meeting at the Ministry. 

Pepper kept squeaking, swinging herself backwards and forwards inside Albus’ trouser pocket until she’d built up enough momentum to fling herself out of the trousers and up onto the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was really quite an impressive feat for such a little creature. Once up there, Pepper nudged a folded tartan scarf and Scorpius’ graduation hat out and into his arms. 

“No offence, Pep, but I think this might make me look like I put my outfit together at the St Oswald’s charity jumble sale.” 

She wasn’t listening, now having too much fun pushing all of the hats, scarves and accessories off the top shelf of the wardrobe and onto the floor. Scorpius let her get on with it, hanging the pink t-shirt back up and instead selecting a smart, white, collarless shirt he was rather fond of. 

He was showered, half dressed and in the bathroom drying his hair with a jet of air from his wand when he heard the Floo flare into life. Scorpius smiled to himself and abandoned drying his hair to go and greet his husband, not caring that he was only wearing the smart shirt and his pants. 

So he got an unexpected shock when, instead of Albus, he arrived in the living room to see Ginny Potter stepping out of the fireplace. He was standing there, in his underwear, in front of his mother-in-law.

“Oh! Um!” Scorpius hastily stepped out of the room and tried to inconspicuously hide behind the door. 

“Sorry, Scorpius!” Ginny called. “I should’ve called ahead.”

“It’s okay, you’re always welcome!” Scorpius replied, as if it were normal for him to stand outside the room like this. 

There was a pause. 

“You can go and put your trousers on, I’ll wait here,” she said in an even voice.

“Right! Yes, I’ll… I’ll do that now.” Scorpius felt his ears burn as he scampered back to his and Albus’ bedroom and pulled the closest pair of joggers on as quickly as possible.

He returned to the living room, hoping he wasn’t too red faced. Ginny was sitting comfortably on the sofa and nothing in her expression gave away what had just happened; Scorpius was very grateful. 

“Hi,” he said, awkwardly announcing his arrival back in the room.

“Hello. Is Albus not at home?” 

“No, I assumed you were him,” Scorpius said sheepishly. “He’ll be back soon. I think he’s stuck at the post office.”

Scorpius didn’t actually know where his husband was but he did know he’d need to be home within the next ten minutes if they wanted to be on time for their evening plans. 

“Well, I just came by to see if the two of you fancied coming along to the Harpies ball tonight. We had some last minute drop outs and some more tickets became available. It might be a nice night off for you?”

“We can’t!” Scorpius blurted out in an unintentionally squeaky voice. He wasn’t sure he could have sounded more unnatural if he’d tried. 

Ginny frowned at him. “Is this because of the trousers thing? Scorpius, I raised two sons, it’s really okay-”

“No, no, um, we just have plans already, that’s all. But thank you so much for the invitation.”

He was trying to be as nonchalant as possible, so as not to invite any questions, but the attempt felt a bit futile as his mother-in-law ran her eyes over him in an eerily all-knowing sort of way. He thought she had sniffed out that he was being deliberately evasive. 

“Yes, you’re dressed very smartly,” she commented a bit shrewdly. 

Scorpius stiffened. “Er, yes I am, aren’t I. From the waist up, I-” 

“Are you going somewhere special?” 

It was a perfectly innocent question, but Scorpius knew he had to be restrictive in how he answered. They’d discussed it at length and it wasn’t a good idea to involve everyone ever in this decision when it was going to be so huge and tough as it was. 

“A dinner party,” Scorpius settled on, hoping Ginny would just assume it was with work colleagues or something. “Albus and I are going to a dinner party tonight.” 

“Lovely, who’s hosting?” she asked casually, putting the tickets back into her handbag. 

“Er,” Scorpius scratched the back of his head, “someone Albus is friends with.”

He internally kicked himself for not saying someone _he_ was friends with. It would be perfectly reasonable for there to be a dinner party hosted by mystery friends of Scorpius but now he’d gone and said Ginny’s literal son he’d only invited further questions. 

“Do I know them?” 

He was probably being wildly obvious in his evasion, but was that better than lying to his mother-in-law and making up a fictional dinner party? Scorpius didn’t think he could stand there and actually lie to her face. 

“Um, I’m not sure, maybe.”

She definitely did know the hosts of the dinner party, in fact she knew them far better than either Scorpius or Albus did. 

Ginny looked suspicious. “Scorpius, who is this dinner party with?” 

“Um, it’s with… er.” 

He had no idea how to resolve this situation. 

“You can tell me.” 

At that moment, the front door opened, indicating Albus’ return home, just as Scorpius felt his resolve break.

“Dean and Seamus!” he said in a rush as Albus stepped inside. “We’re having dinner with Dean and Seamus.”

Albus’ eyes widened at once and he looked hastily at his mum then at Scorpius with a questioning expression. 

“What’s going on?” Albus moved to stand behind Scorpius, placing a hand at the small of his back. 

“Your mum came round to offer us spare tickets to the Harpies ball tonight,” Scorpius started to explain weakly.

Ginny had her arms folded and she was smirking at Albus. “Dinner with Dean and Seamus, yes?”

“Yep,” Albus replied, staring her down. “They invited us round when Dean was painting Lily’s new wall mural. Is that okay?”

Ginny was staring at the two of them with a soft expression. “That’s lovely.” 

“We don’t all have a fancy ball to attend tonight,” Albus said in a forced voice. 

“No, your evening sounds much nicer.” She reached for the Floo powder. “Can I tell your dad?”

Albus glanced helplessly at Scorpius. “Can we tell _you_ first?”

“Yes, sorry.” She threw the powder into the fireplace. “My lips are sealed. Have fun.” She stepped into the green flames with a wicked grin and span away. 

Albus groaned and dragged both his hands down his face, flopping forwards onto the sofa. “Why are my family like this?” he lamented into the cushions.

Scorpius sat beside him and gently touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, she got it out of me, she’s like an _Unspeakable_ , your mum.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just, can nothing stay private ever?” Albus sat up and looked forlornly over at Scorpius.

Allowing his lips to quirk up into a smirk, Scorpius shuffled closer to him so their knees were touching. “ _Plenty_ stays private between us.”

Albus broke into a grin. “I’d be taking that shirt off if I didn’t know you’d only just put it on.” He ran his fingers down the carefully sealed buttons.

“No, this is what I wore to work,” Scorpius said as sincerely as he could. “It was, er, a non-uniform day.”

“You wore a nice shirt and a pair of my joggers to work today?” Albus said, folding his arms. 

“It’s… I was halfway through getting ready when your mum arrived,” he explained, feeling his face flush. “I’m going to wear my grey trousers.”

“You look lovely, babe.” Albus pressed a quick kiss to his lips and stood up. “Now what am I going to wear?” 

“Pepper Imp is very keen to offer suggestions.” Scorpius followed him from the living room.

“I picked up some wine for us to bring, I hope I got the right one!” Albus called from where he was already in their bedroom. “It’s on the hall table!”

“That’s why you walked,” Scorpius said, mainly to himself as he changed course for the little table near the front door. On it were two bottles of Malbec and two little bouquets of lilacs. “You got them both flowers too?”

Albus appeared in the bedroom doorway in just his pants and he grinned. “One’s for them, one’s for you.”

Scorpius beamed and went to fill up a vase with water, arranging the lilacs prettily on the kitchen windowsill underneath the dried lavender bouquet Albus had recently brought back from the market before joining Albus in their bedroom. 

“There’s going to be an official Ministry announcement tonight,” he said casually.

Albus looked over from the wardrobe suspiciously. “Do you know what they’re announcing?” 

Scorpius nodded. “It’s a very boring one. Wand covers are going to be mandatory.”

Albus blinked and went back to flicking through the coat hangers. “Oh. Doesn’t everyone do that anyway?”

“Everyone _we_ know does.” Scorpius sat on the top of the bed while Albus picked out a shirt. 

“We keep such _excellent_ company,” he said in an overly posh voice, flicking Scorpius’ chest with the shirt before threading his arms through and fastening the buttons. “Will it come while we’re at Dean and Seamus’?”

Scorpius considered this question. “I suppose it will. Hey,” he laughed, “imagine this is how we find out they’re both fervently against wand covers.”

Albus pulled a face. “That would make for an awkward dinner party.”

It didn’t take long for both of them to be standing ready in front of the fireplace.

“Here.” Scorpius carefully arranged Albus hair into place for him, smoothing it down at one side. “Do I look okay?”

“Like a literal angel, as always,” Albus chuckled and checked his watch. “Right, I’ll go first.”

He reached for the Floo powder and threw a handful into the fire, pecking Scorpius on the cheek before stepping in.

Seamus and Dean lived in a townhouse on the other side of the city. The inside was an eclectic mix of Quidditch memorabilia and different woods and abstract art and lots of photos of their kids. That evening, the warm scent of baking pastry filled the place and Scorpius felt a distinct sense of homeliness; it was clearly a house full of love. 

The table was set elegantly with sprigs of lavender tucked into rolled up napkins and jagged slabs of slate instead of placemats and the lilacs Albus had picked out in a small crystal vase in the centre of the table where Dean had insisted on placing them. Scorpius was relieved that nothing contained fish and instead, Seamus had served a delicious looking vegetarian cannelloni.

“It’s actually a very straightforward recipe, one of my favourites to prepare.” 

Scorpius nodded appreciatively. “It looks lovely.” 

As he spoke, he noticed Dean was smirking at his husband as he finished uncorking the bottle of wine they’d brought, hands on hips. Seamus pointedly avoided his gaze. Dean sighed and caught Scorpius’ eye.

“He’s talking bollocks. Lucas made this.” 

“And I think you’ll find Lucas is my creation, therefore _indirectly,_ I did have quite a hand in making this.” 

“ _It’s actually a very straightforward recipe, one of my favourites to prepare.”_ Dean mimicked his husband’s accent, pouring wine into Albus’ glass. 

Seamus grinned at Albus. “Isn’t that exactly why we’re here? To discuss the _very straightforward recipe_ we used to _prepare_ Lucas?”

Albus went a bit red and cleared his throat. “Er, I suppose so.”

Dean laughed and sat down at the table. “Did you just compare our son to a spinach and ricotta cannelloni, Seamus?” He caught Scorpius’ eye and gave a wicked grin. 

Seamus shrugged, gesturing to his plate. “Ingredients, oven, end result.” 

“Please stop before you put everyone off their food,” Dean said with a groan. 

“It’s okay,” Albus chuckled. “You should hear some of the work stories Scor comes out with over dinner.” 

“You ask how my day went, that is how it went,” Scorpius said in mock defence.

Albus patted the top of his leg under the table. “What I mean is we’re not squeamish.” 

“Well that’s certainly useful prior to having a baby,” Dean said with a laugh. 

Scorpius was midway through a sip of wine and he felt himself blush, even though the literal reason for this dinner party was for them to talk about having a baby. It was just that it was the first big step he and Albus had taken beyond simply discussing things amongst themselves and it was making the whole process feel suddenly much more real. 

Aware he needed to limit himself so he could pay attention, Scorpius put his wine glass down and took a bite of pasta instead. He immediately made a mental note to ensure they left with Lucas’ recipe because it was absolutely delicious.

“I take it you’ve already discussed this at great length at the strangest times and in the oddest of locations?” Dean smiled.

Albus exchanged a glance with Scorpius, nodding. “How did you know?” 

“Because this conversation always comes up when you least expect it,” Seamus put in. 

“Well, yes, we’ve talked about it quite a few times,” Albus shrugged, “but each time we come to the conclusion that we don’t know enough to make any decisions yet and then we end up deciding to think about it some more.” 

“But the basics. Adoption or surrogacy, those are your two main options,” Seamus said matter of factly. 

“We used a surrogate both times,” Dean explained. “There are benefits to both, but surrogacy felt the most…” he took Seamus’ hand, “ _right_ to us.” 

“That’s the part we haven’t talked about,” Albus admitted sheepishly. “We know we want to have a baby, and we’ve talked a lot about how we would make room in our lives to be parents.”

“And we both want to be dads so much,” Scorpius put in, in case Albus’ use of the phrase _make room_ made it sound like they considered it a chore. “Starting a family would feel so… _right_ for us.” 

Albus nodded and squeezed Scorpius’ knee under the table, possibly as an indication to calm down a bit. Scorpius took it to mean that and tried to breathe deeply a couple of times to collect his familiar spiral of overthinking before it took hold. 

Dean smiled. “We don’t know much about the adoption process because we decided early on to use a surrogate. But anything you want to know, we’re happy to share.” 

There was a moment of hesitation, Albus glanced at Scorpius almost apologetically and then looked right at Dean. “How did you decide whose… you know… sperm to use?” He said the word _sperm_ very quickly and then blushed. “First, I mean. Each time. Both the times.” 

Albus stuttered his way through an unnecessary explanation of what he meant. 

Dean chuckled and Seamus joined him. “We never really did decide that one, did we, love?” 

Scorpius exchanged a puzzled look with Albus, who was still blushing from asking his question. 

“I’m sure you know how the process works, especially you, Scorpius,” Seamus said, seeming to enjoy their confusion. “But when it comes to making embryos in a potions vial, luck isn’t really on your side.”

“Nope,” Dean said, popping the p. “Not to put you off doing it, but half the time, the sperm and the egg just don’t take to each other.”

“Of course you do a bit of work before it gets to the potion vial stage. They can check your sperm count, see how many swimmers you’ve actually got in there, and there’s something about the egg too. To be honest, it’s usually us who are the problem.” Seamus shrugged. 

“There wasn’t much in it between us in terms of sperm count,” Dean explained, “so the decision really was just down to us.”

“How did you pick?” Scorpius blurted out, intrigued.

“In the end, we decided to double our chances of even making an embryo. We had a go with both, decided it was up to fate whose worked, if either of them did.” 

“But they both did,” Seamus supplied. “We had two sets of embryos, ended up with nine altogether. Four were mine and five were Dean’s.” 

“ _Nine,”_ Albus breathed with a hint of awe in his voice. 

“We always knew we wanted more than one kid, in the long run, y’know?” Seamus shrugged. 

“Yes, but not _nine_ kids,” Dean continued with a laugh. “Of course, it’s a gamble if any of the embryos will take. So we made the decision, with our surrogate, to freeze some of the nine embryos.” 

“You can _freeze_ them?” Albus asked. 

“Oh yes!” Scorpius piped up. “For several years if you want to. It’s fascinating.” 

“That’s what we did. Niamh was born, then three years later we unfroze Shay’s embryos and had Lucas. Ingrid was our surrogate both times, although she would have been the donor for Lucas anyway, even if we’d used a different surrogate.”

“Hold on,” Albus held his finger up in question, “the donor and the surrogate don’t have to be the same person?” He sat back in his seat, impressed. “Wow, bodies are really quite brilliant, aren’t they.” 

“No, the fertilisation process happens entirely separately from the uterus,” Scorpius said happily. 

He paused for a second and glanced at Albus, giving him a chance to speak. Although they talked about it a lot, it was of course no surprise that Scorpius had much more knowledge on the topic than Albus did and he was aware of this, wanting to make sure Albus got the chance to ask any questions he had without feeling like he shouldn’t. But when Albus looked content, Scorpius voiced the question which was on his mind.

“How did you pick a surrogate?” 

It was the only thing he and Albus hadn’t even touched on. They’d talked about surrogacy, of course, but never on who on Earth they might actually ask to do such a thing. 

“There’s an agency set up to connect people who want to be surrogates with families like ours, that’s how we met Ingrid and we hit it off immediately.” 

Scorpius suddenly got a clear yet strange image in his mind of himself and Albus, stood either side of a very pregnant Thea which was such an absurd concept it made him chuckle to himself. 

“How did you know she was the right person?” Albus asked, looking genuinely concerned, as if he were already thinking about who to ask. 

“I suppose we just really got on with her. She had the same sort of approach to being a surrogate as we did to choosing surrogacy, we knew we could trust her to keep our babies safe.”

“ _And,”_ Seamus put in with a grin, “she got all Os on her OWLs. Those brains for my kids? Yes please.” 

“That wasn’t why we picked her,” Dean laughed. “But she was good-natured and kind and those aren’t exactly bad qualities to look for when you get to choose some of your children’s genetics.” 

“Although, who’s to say how much stuff like that is genetic.” Seamus shrugged. 

Immediately, Scorpius thought about how much he would love to have a baby who shared Albus’ qualities. A sweet and caring soul with a dry wit that could only belong to Albus Potter, an unwavering passion for the things he loved and quiet ambition mixed with just enough gumption to make his dreams a reality. 

“The agency is a great place to start,” Dean said. “But of course, you might find someone you know turns out to be the perfect fit.”

Scorpius made a mental note to tell Albus later about his hilariously unlikely vision of Thea as their surrogate. He wasn’t sure he could think of a less maternal person, except perhaps Rose. 

The rest of the dinner went by pleasantly. The Ministry announcement arrived before they started dessert, reading itself out in Hermione’s solemn voice before folding up into a neat parchment transcript to minimal reaction. Dean and Seamus agreed that they too had been using a wand cover anyway.

Scorpius knew it sounded silly, even in his head, but it felt so very _grown-up_ to be having a dinner party with people like Dean and Seamus, who as far as he was concerned, were fully fledged adults. 

“Thank you, both, so much for this,” Albus said sincerely as they were putting their jackets on to leave. “It’s so useful to talk to you about it all.” 

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Seamus said with a friendly pat to Albus’ shoulder. “When we were going through the process, we didn’t know anyone who’d done it before. It’s nice to feel useful now.” He laughed.

Dean rested an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “We should have you two over for dinner more often, I’ve never heard the words _sperm_ or _uterus_ said so many times during any dinner party before.” 

Albus’ ears turned red but he looked more amused than anything. 

“We’d love to have you over for dinner next time,” Scorpius said politely. 

“You’ll cook, will you?” Albus said, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him. 

Scorpius turned to Dean and Seamus, deadly serious, clasping his hands before him. “Do you both like toast?” 

Later that night, Scorpius lay awake in bed, propped against the pillows and pretending to read his book. Albus appeared in the doorway of their en-suite, toothbrush in his mouth and a knowing expression on his face. 

“We gon’t haf tuh gecige any hing now,” he said through a mouthful of toothbrush. 

“I’m sure that was very comforting, but I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Scorpius chuckled, closing his book and putting it on the bedside table. 

Albus disappeared for a second and Scorpius heard the sound of him spitting his toothpaste out and water running into the sink. 

“I said, we don’t have to decide anything right now.” He came out of the bathroom, shirtless and in striped pyjama bottoms, and flicked the light off with his wand, so only the soft bedside lamp lit the room. 

“I know, I know.” Scorpius sighed. 

Albus climbed into the bed and settled himself comfortably beside Scorpius, resting his head on Scorpius’ shoulder. He reached up and placed his palm flat over Scorpius’ heart. “I can feel you worrying from the other side of the room.”

Scorpius took the hand placed over his chest and laced their fingers together. “I’m not _worrying,_ exactly. It’s just a scarily big decision.” 

“And like I said, we don’t need to decide right now. We can take our time, think it through properly.” 

Scorpius shuffled down in the bed, adjusting his pillow and curling over to one side. Albus rested his head over Scorpius’ chest and flung an arm casually over the top of him. Their usual sleeping posture, forgone too many times for Scorpius to do a night shift recently. 

“Thinking begins here,” Scorpius said confidently, kissing the top of Albus’ hair.

Albus reached up and tapped him lightly on the nose. “No _over_ thinking, though, alright? If you’re worrying about some aspect of this, tell me.” 

“Promise.” 

“Goodnight, Scor. I love you.” Albus burrowed into him and went still.

“Goodnight, Albus. I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! I am so blown away by the love you are showing this story, I'm so thankful to have such brilliant readers! reading your comments puts a huge smile on my face, thank you! <3
> 
> you can find me on instagram and tumblr, both littlerose13writes :)
> 
> also is anyone interested in the playlist I've sort of made for this fic? I've been sharing a song per chapter over on instagram but I can start putting them at the beginning of chapters here if that's of interest! let me know :)
> 
> see you all next week xx


	6. Chapter 5 - Night Shifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist: [The Best Is Yet To Come - Sheppard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpBMEuV1Kf0)

Albus tapped his foot in impatience and adjusted the collar of his robes. He reached up to, once again, smooth his hair into place where it was already attempting to escape into his usual untidy style. Scorpius had reminded him that first impressions were everything when it came to the notoriously difficult to please Ministry Potions Approval Department, while he’d brushed Albus’ hair for him that morning. Somehow, he always managed to make it behave in a way Albus never could. 

His husband’s work was at risk of being undone if Albus had to wait any longer though, as the urge to run his hands through his hair in agitation increased. The spot on his upper arm where the paper swan tattoo was fresh tingled and Albus clenched his fist to suppress the urge to scratch it. The fifth day was always the most agonising so it was typical it coincided with the day he had this meeting.

A woman opposite was openly staring at him and Albus wasn’t sure how many more times he could smile politely and look away before he just glared at her. Instead, he reached for a random magazine on the table in the reception area and hid his face behind it in annoyance. It was  _ In The Tea Leaves,  _ which he would never normally read, due to the publication’s inability to publish an issue without at least one mention of his brother. 

As if trying to irritate him, the first page Albus flipped to was an almost full page spread of James’ face, winning smile in place, under the headline  _ How You Too Can Achieve James Potter’s Harpies Ball Look.  _ There was a detailed breakdown of James’ outfit and an advert for Teddy’s hair salon and Albus sighed, wondering who read this rubbish. He hummed in annoyance and flipped the page again.

_ Is romance blossoming amongst the Harpies?  _ the article demanded him to consider. Albus was about to turn the page again when the byline caught his eye and he froze.

_ Thea Jordan (pictured below) shares some extra practice hours with teammate Lara Lernbacher.  _

Albus pulled the page closer and scanned the article, skimming through paragraphs detailing Thea’s Chasing record that season but he picked up his attention when he got about halfway down, a name catching his eye.

_ Since splitting with former girlfriend, Minister for Magic’s daughter Rose Granger-Weasley, Thea has been enjoying the single life. But recently, she’s appeared inseparable from new teammate Lara Lernbacher, who transferred from the Monterey Marmots to join the Harpies as Keeper this season. The two were seen leaving the Harpies training ground over an hour after the rest of the team, claiming to be putting in extra practice before the team’s upcoming tour.  _

_ An inside source has reported that Lara describes Thea as her ‘first true friend in the UK’ and it’s impossible to deny the two are close. Both arrived at the Harpies end of season ball with other partners (see page 18 for our ranking of the best and worst dress robes of the evening - number two might shock you!) but were seen spending much of the evening in each other’s company. Perhaps they think they can fool us?  _

Albus felt a bit uneasy as he let the magazine drop into his lap and he immediately wanted to talk to Scorpius; although he knew his husband wouldn’t be happy. 

It had been about five months now since Thea had randomly showed up at their flat the day before Christmas Eve with a bottle of wine, acted like that was a normal thing for her to do and then announced that she and Rose had decided to go their separate ways. Albus had been sympathetic to her face but unable to contain his skepticism once she’d left. “ _ I hate seeing her like that. But come on, they’ll be back together again by the end of the week, _ ” he’d said confidently to a heartbroken Scorpius while he rinsed out the empty wine bottle.

When Rose moved out of their shared flat in Holyhead and got a place in London, Albus had  _ still  _ refused to believe they wouldn’t be back together soon. Scorpius called him  _ annoyingly optimistic for once  _ as he arranged to send flowers and a card of kind, supportive words to Rose’s new house or whatever the fuck it was he’d done. Despite thinking his husband’s actions were very sweet, Albus couldn’t help feeling they were all jumping to conclusions. No matter how final they insisted it was this time, Thea and Rose claimed they were  _ breaking up  _ at least once a month, didn’t they? 

Nobody had shared Albus’ sentiments - Lily told him he was being cold hearted - and he’d been forced to admit that maybe he was wrong when, after two months, Thea and Rose stopped coming to events if they knew the other would be there. As far as Albus knew, they didn’t speak anymore, and had remained firmly broken up ever since. It meant he and Scorpius hadn’t met up with all their school friends at the same time in far too long.

Albus fidgeted uncomfortably on the chair, side eyeing the magazine as if it had offended him. Since their break up, neither Thea nor Rose had been involved with anyone else; the idea felt a bit strange and it was only now, seeing it in accusatory print, that Albus realised he’d honestly thought they would just get back together. 

Just as Albus was considering how he would bring this up to Scorpius, the wizard at the reception desk rang his annoying little bell and announced Albus’ name in a tinny voice. The staring woman’s eyes widened and Albus suspected she’d been trying to work out who he was for that whole time. He ignored her, slid the magazine into his briefcase and followed the familiar path to the Ludicrous Patent Office, specifically the door behind which he would find the Experimental Potions desk. 

He knocked, watched the door swing open and faced an old yet spriteley wizard, with a neatly trimmed grey moustache and impeccable grey robes of exactly the same shade. 

“Mr Potter-Malfoy, how lovely it is to see you again,” the wizard said politely, although his expression was strained. “And what…  _ innovative  _ design have you brought to show me today?”

Cyril Harrington was the head of the Experimental Potions Patenting office at the ministry, and it was his department who had the power to give Albus the exclusive legal rights to sell his recipes and products to the public. He’d been doing the job since long before Albus was born and, in his words, he’d  _ never seen such creative use of ingredients before _ . Coming from anyone else, that might have been a compliment, but Harrington’s decidedly clipped tone for the word  _ creative  _ made it clear he didn’t mean it in a good way. 

Albus didn’t particularly care if Harrington liked his style of potioning or not, he merely needed him to grant the patent so he would be the only brewer allowed to sell his potions.

“It’s actually not a new design today, sir.” Albus opened the briefcase he always used for these meetings and carefully withdrew his paperwork. “It’s about my Invigoration potion. It’s ready to go on the market.”

“Ah, yes, the invigoration potion made with  _ fireseed  _ instead of firecrab claw. _ ”  _ Harrington sounded disapproving, the same way he had when Albus had first brought the recipe to him to be granted a patent for it.

“That’s the one. I’ve got my marketing proofs here and the recipe has been approved by the International Potioneering Guild of Britain.”

“Has it?” Harrington looked a bit like he was resisting rolling his eyes and he didn’t look at any of the papers Albus lay in front of him. 

“I think this will be helpful to a lot of people. I’m ready to sell it now, with the patent you granted me, but I have a, er, a request.” Albus subtly crossed his fingers under the table. 

“A request about the patent?” Harrington appraised Albus, looking down his nose past his grey moustache. 

“Yes, sir.” Albus quickly ran over the words he’d practised with Scorpius at home. “I’m looking to grow my business internationally. I’d like to apply for a US one as well.”

“A US patent?” Harrington sat back and folded his arms.

“That’s right.” Albus frowned slightly. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but my last two recipe redesigns…” He trailed off at the hard stare Harrington was giving him. “Er, Wit-Sharpening and the bitterroot burn balm I invented.”

“I remember, I granted you the patent for both, go on.” Harrington waved his hand for Albus to continue. 

“Well, sir, StarBrews in the US started selling a very similar product shortly after I took mine public,  _ both _ times. A product which they couldn’t have sold here in the UK because it breached my patent. But they can sell it there because I have no copyright in America.”

“And you want this patent to cover America so there isn’t a repeat?” 

“Well, exactly. It felt almost  _ instant _ , sir. As soon as I started selling to the public, StarBrews had their own version on the shelves. They can only have gotten it from me.”

“I agree that is suspicious timing, but you have-”

“ _ No proof they stole my intellectual property. _ ”

“And as you don’t have US rights anyway, they haven’t caused-”

“ _ Significant damage to my business,  _ so I have  _ no grounds to sue,  _ I know, sir.”

“You’ve done your research.”

“My cousin’s a lawyer.” Albus sighed. “It was her idea that I apply for a US patent before I take this one public, to counteract that.”

“You know a US patent will be far harder for you to obtain,” Harrington challenged. “And it’s a bit far on into the process. I granted you the UK patent for this months ago.”

“I know.” Albus nodded firmly. “It’s a bit of a recent idea. Is it remotely possible?”

Harrington narrowed his eyes. “To be honest, Mr Potter-Malfoy,  _ no _ , it is not remotely possible. There isn’t even a form for that.” He waved his hand over the carefully organised range of different parchment forms to his right. Albus often thought he must straighten them all up by hand a few times a day and that’s why it took so long for him to get through his appointments. 

“Can I-”

“ _ However _ ,” Harrington interrupted pointedly, “I can enquire into that potential outcome with my colleagues over at the International Potioneering Guild of America.”

“Excellent, tha-”

“It should take a minimum of sixteen business weeks.”

Albus blinked at him. “But that’s  _ four months _ !” 

“Minimum,” Harrington reminded him. 

“It’s scheduled to launch on the first of July,” Albus said desperately. “StarBrews will have it out on their shelves by August if I don’t have the patent first. And then they’ll have the US rights anyway.”

Harrington shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”

“How am I supposed to take my business worldwide if I can’t sell my best products in America?” Albus demanded, giving in and messing his hair up agitatedly. “And how are StarBrews constantly getting away with this?”

“Is that a  _ take _ or a  _ leave,  _ then?” Harrington asked in a bored voice. 

“Is there any point saying  _ take?” _ Albus asked desperately. “Knowing StarBrews will be able to copy it long before I can get the US patent?” 

“You seem convinced they’re copying you.” Harrington straightened his forms haughtily. “Could it be that StarBrews just happen to have had the same idea?” 

Albus felt infuriation course through him. “Twice in a row? After I released my version?” he said with more annoyance than he meant to show. “Sir,” he added quickly. 

“It’s possible, of course, but remember that they are  _ also _ experimental potioneers for a living.”

“I know that, sir,” Albus said, trying to quell the rising annoyance within him. “I know it’s possible we just had the same idea, but just in case they didn’t, I don’t want that happening again with this one.” 

Harrington bristled. “Hmm, well, they’d have to have registered preliminary plans. What was it?  _ Invigoration, no firecrab claw, _ ” he read from the top of Albus’ plans and scribbled the words down onto an official-looking parchment pad. 

“Sir, I’m confident they won’t have thought of this.” Albus couldn’t help but grin to himself, of the ingredient change he’d spent months perfecting.

“Allow me to confer with my colleague, one moment.” He ripped off the top sheet of parchment briskly and rose from the desk, walking towards the small fireplace on the other side of the office.

Albus watched as Harrington’s head disappeared into the fire. He crossed his legs and uncrossed them, he tapped his foot nervously and felt a combination of pride and anticipation swoop in his stomach. His apprehension around the request was palpable; it was only the urges of both Scorpius and Rose which had spurred him on to do it in the first place. But now he’d actually asked Harrington, it was scarily real.

His swan tattoo prickled with apprehension too as the flames died down and Harrington withdrew, dusting himself off briskly and sitting back behind the desk.

“Yes, it is as I presumed, a redesigned recipe for this potion  _ also  _ omitting firecrab claw is registered to StarBrews.”

Albus felt his blood run cold and then hot again as his cheeks flushed. His heart beat loud in his ears and a lump developed in his throat. The room felt strangely airless and Albus reminded himself to breathe. 

“But…” he squeaked and tried to regain his composure. “I’ve worked on this for  _ months _ , it took me forever to find an ingredient which worked. They can’t have…”

“Clearly, they had the same brainwave,” Harrington said in that clipped tone again.

Albus sucked in a breath. “Sir, forgive me, but my design has been through three rounds of tests. It’s the result of  _ my  _ experiments, doesn’t it seem a little bit coincidental that StarBrews just happens to have that registered too? When did they submit the idea?”

“Are you  _ still  _ implying StarBrews got this idea from you?” 

“No, I’m not implying anything, but I am a bit… well, suspicious.” Albus mumbled the last word, aware he’d already overstepped the mark with Harrington. 

“Surely you keep your experimental work confidential?” Harrington raised his eyebrows.

“As confidential as I can with that many test subjects.” Albus could feel his voice shaking a bit and he squeezed his own thumb to try and calm himself. “But the IPG can vouch for me, I created this final design over a month ago, and started including fireseed back in February!” 

“And who knows when StarBrews started their own experiments.” Harrington sat back in his chair. “I do sympathise, Mr Potter-Malfoy, but there’s no way of knowing. You may be ahead in the process, but you could have just got there quicker.”

Albus gritted his teeth. “Isn’t that the whole point? Grant me the patent first because I got there first.” He could feel his voice rising and he reminded himself to breathe, to remain rational. 

Harrington sighed.

He swallowed hard. “I know, I know.  _ Sixteen business weeks.  _ So what can you do?”

Harrington reached for a stack of parchment and a quill. “I’ve granted you the UK and European patent, there’s no doubt about those. But-“

“Always a  _ but  _ these days,” Albus muttered, not caring how rude he sounded. 

“This will make it essentially impossible to gain a patent in the US. StarBrews have priority with the IPG of America. I can’t see them granting you a US patent with this coming through the system.”

Albus very much wanted to swear loudly. “So if I go ahead with this, I’ll be waiting a minimum of sixteen weeks for them to probably say no anyway? Meanwhile StarBrews can sell the same potion?”

“I’ll talk to the office but unless you can in some way prove StarBrews saw your plans, I don’t know if you’ve got a leg to stand on.” Harrington chuckled as if this were the most ridiculous concept. Albus wanted to kick him under the table.

He grumbled and snapped his briefcase shut, immediately feeling very protective over the plans inside it. 

“Thank you for your time, Mr Harrington,” Albus said in a monotone. 

“I’ll owl you when I’ve processed your claim, as usual.” Harrington had perched a pair of reading glasses on his nose and was looking down at the form Albus had left with him. “Good day.”

“Yeah, good day,” Albus grumbled, leaving the office as quickly as he could. 

* * *

After a quick apparation to Diagon Alley, Albus ducked into an alcove and whispered to his raven patronus. “Are you free at all this week? Just come out of meeting with Harrington, not ideal outcome.” 

He watched it soar away, feeling his heart sink with dejection.  _ Not ideal outcome  _ was an understatement. Deciding good coffee was a solid remedy for now, Albus set off in the direction of The Little Leprechaun. With every step he took, he felt a different emotion surge within him: disappointment, frustration, anger.

The hard part was supposed to be setting up by himself, going it alone and turning down jobs with the big brewing companies. Albus had thought he wouldn’t be able to do it straight away, that he’d have to work for someone for a few years at least to save up enough money, until Draco got word of his plans and insisted on investing in his business before he and Scorpius had even got married. As he continually reminded Albus, he wasn’t  _ donating,  _ he wasn’t even just loaning Albus the start up fund. His father-in-law owned a percentage of the business and his expertise were invaluable to Albus. 

He’d taken a huge risk setting up Fleamont’s, choosing to be his own boss, but Albus had never regretted the decision once. He was doing what he loved every day and wasn’t having to answer to anyone about his potioning choices. 

He’d established Fleamont’s as a bit of a luxury brand, its small batch sizes and workshop-made original recipes suiting a certain kind of client. His work made him not only a living wage but a pretty decent salary, enough that, along with Scorpius’ Healer wage, they could afford to hire an architect to help them create their dream home without any help from their parents. Though, of course Draco had offered several times. 

But Albus was being thwarted at every turn by the Ministry system, which favoured the big brewers who’d been running for decades. He never saw representatives from Marem and Masters waiting for an appointment with Harrington, although that might have been because Marem and Masters hadn’t changed their recipes for years. Albus came up with something new he wanted to test almost every week. 

“Double shot americano to go, please,” he ordered in a weary voice, feeling as if he’d like nothing more than a hug from his husband. With that thought, Albus took a step back from the counter and surveyed the display of cakes and pastries. “And one of those little peanut butter brownie on a stick things.” 

The barista smiled and nodded. “Would you like the brownie pop in a bag?” 

“Oh yes, it’s not for me,” Albus explained. 

He paid for the coffee and the cake and, while he watched the barista make his drink, a small, silver wolf crept up in front of him. He hadn’t been expecting a reply from Teddy so soon. The coffee shop was quiet and Albus gestured for the wolf to speak. 

“ _ Am free next Thursday night after seven if you want to come over and talk about it. I’m sorry, Al. Are you okay? Come for dinner tonight if you want. Can’t promise I can talk business, but if Scorp’s stuck working and you need some company?” _

Clutching Scorpius’ brownie bag and his coffee in one hand, Albus cast a quick patronus to reply. 

“ _ Thanks, Ted. Next Thursday would be great. I’m alright, Scor’s actually already done for the day, but thanks for the offer.”  _

He watched his patronus soar away and quickly apparated home.

The flat was quiet when Albus returned, Pepper Imp snoozing in a teacup on the windowsill (her preferred napping spot) to the faint sounds of bubbling which often emitted from Albus’ workshop. Scorpius wasn’t back from lunch with his dad, it seemed.

Albus sighed and placed his briefcase on the kitchen counter next to the bag containing Scorpius’ brownie pop, opened it and stared at the contents once more. He hated that what could have been a leisurely afternoon with Scorpius was now ruined by this news. The thought that StarBrews could once again steal his work ate away at Albus’ heart like an incessant rodent, making him feel disconcerted and unsafe. It made him want to keep all his potions a secret forever, to never share them with anyone, because the feeling of seeing them stolen with somebody else’s name slapped on the front made Albus feel sick.

The Floo glowed green and Scorpius spun into the living room, scanning around and lighting up when he saw Albus. He scurried over and stood still on the spot for a second, his fingertips fidgeting. He looked as if he might be about to burst with withheld information, his expression anxious. Immediately Albus put his potions worries to the back of his mind. 

“What is it, love? Has something happened?” Albus tried to read his expression.

Scorpius bit his lip and clasped his hands together. “I told Dad we want to have a baby!” he blurted out with a wince. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted us to tell him together, but I think on some level he already knew. We were at the farmers market together when he started talking about magical genetics, and I thought it was all just very hypothetical until he suddenly came out with a question about whose sperm we would use if  _ we  _ had a baby and I dropped a parsnip on my foot. My  _ Dad,  _ Albus, talking about  _ sperm,  _ in the middle of the  _ farmers market.  _ So I said… I said…” 

He was catching his breath, seemingly about to launch into more, but before he could start up again, Albus moved forward. He held Scorpius firmly and pulled him into his arms, where he melted with a deep sigh. 

“Stop,” he whispered. “It’s okay.” 

Albus realised he needed the hug just as much as his husband did, both of them holding tight and not saying anything for a good few minutes. 

“You’re not ever so slightly annoyed at me for telling him without you?” Scorpius pulled away and appraised Albus apprehensively. 

“I’m not, love. The moment came up, I wouldn’t have expected you to lie.” He brought his hands up to play with the back of Scorpius’ hair. “What did he say?” 

“Well,” Scorpius grinned and perched on the sofa, gesturing for Albus to join him. “We actually talked a lot about it. I told him how surrogacy works and he was very interested, asked lots of questions about the process. And he said…”

Scorpius trailed off and looked down at his feet, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. 

“What did he say?” Albus pressed gently.

Their eyes met. “He said he thinks we’ll make  _ excellent parents. _ ” 

Albus felt his smile grow, even though he’d already heard this sentiment from Draco himself. Scorpius’ clear rapture at his father’s approval was infectious. He squeezed the tops of Scorpius’ legs and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. 

" _ Parents,  _ Scor. Me and you,  _ dads.  _ Us, having a baby.” 

Scorpius beamed. “It’s really going to happen. We’re going to have our own little family. A  _ baby.” _

His eyes shone and Albus wondered if he was imagining the same sort of scenes Albus was: the two of them stood at a little cot, watching a tiny baby sleep; Scorpius in his dressing down, carrying a little one in pyjamas; the feeling of a tiny head resting on his chest. 

“How was your meeting?”

Almost like magic, Albus’ frustration and anger seemed to dissipate. If StarBrews was going to steal his design and sell it in America, well, he’d just have to stick to selling in Europe only. It was the worst, Albus would never be happy about it, but whatever happened, StarBrews couldn’t take away his family and that was that. 

“The US patent is basically a no-go and StarBrews are  _ also _ making Invigoration potion. I need legal advice,” Albus sighed, “again.” 

He would tell Scorpius the full story later of course, but for now he wanted to maintain the sweet atmosphere.

“Send Rosie my love,” Scorpius smiled, getting up from the sofa. 

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” Albus said, distracted by the mention of Rose and remembering the article he’d read. “Actually, sit down again. I need to show you something.” 

“What?” Scorpius nervously lowered himself back onto the sofa. “My disposition is already fragile, Albus.” 

“Now’s probably a good time to give you this, too.” He passed Scorpius the paper bag containing his brownie pop.

Scorpius peered into the bag and a little smile crossed his face. “Love, I’m supposed to be cutting down on sugar.”

“And I’m trying to drink less coffee but that didn’t happen today.”

“What is it?” Scorpius looked apprehensive, folding down the top of the paper bag and pressing it into place.

“Just read it.” Albus presented him with the stolen copy of  _ In The Tea Leaves  _ and placed a hand gently on his knee while he read.

Scorpius was a quick reader and he gave a little gasp as his eyes flicked over the words. He looked up at Albus, all doe-eyed and crushed. “She’s really moved on, hasn’t she? They’re not going to get back together.” 

“It could be a load of crap. The next page is all about  _ the best Floo-proof ways to style your fringe this season _ so I’m not sure it’s the peak of journalism.”

“Do you think Rose has seen this?” Scorpius said in a concerned voice. 

Albus shrugged. “Even if she has, she won’t let on how she feels about it.”

“But she’ll be upset, won’t she?” 

“I don’t know, Scor. They’ve been broken up a long time. Maybe she’ll be happy for Thea.”

“I hate that we still don’t even know why they broke up,” Scorpius said glumly. 

“Not for lack of trying. It’s like trying to get dragon’s blood from a moonstone with Rose, and Thea isn’t much better.” 

“I know this is incredibly selfish of me, but I just want everything to go back to how it was before.” Scorpius relaxed against Albus’ body. 

It was only then that Albus really, truly appreciated that they had the whole afternoon together stretched out ahead of them. It felt like all the time in the world, certainly long enough to do most of the things Albus had been wishing they could for weeks. He wrapped his arms around Scorpius and buried his face in his neck, kissing the sensitive skin of Scorpius’ throat and Scorpius responded with a sound that told Albus he had come to the same conclusion.

* * *

Albus was exceedingly glad they’d made the most of that rare afternoon off together because it was only a few days later that Scorpius started a night shift pattern. He didn’t love it when Scorpius had to leave early and arrive home late but he loved it even less when Scorpius was asleep most of the day, only two rooms away from Albus’ workshop, and gone half the night. 

It had only been a week of kissing Scorpius goodbye in the evening after a rushed dinner together and Albus was already finding it hard to fall asleep by himself. He often felt he’d barely dropped off when the weak sunrise came streaming through the curtains just as Scorpius arrived home and crept into bed beside him, exhausted and asleep within seconds. 

But Scorpius had gone in early that day, around lunchtime, which meant he could come home before Albus went to sleep. That had been the plan, anyway.

Actually, it was 1am, but Albus hadn’t been to bed yet, determined to spend some time with Scorpius that day. They were tangled up in each other on the sofa, warm and comfortable and more than likely about to fall asleep. 

“What’s the time?” Scorpius craned his neck around to check the clock on the wall. “You should be asleep.” 

“So should you.” Albus kissed his shoulder.

“Night shift pattern, late start tomorrow,” Scorpius shrugged.

“The thing about working for myself is I get to choose my own hours,” Albus mused. “Maybe I’ll have a late start tomorrow too.” 

“Tomorrow’s Thursday. Doesn’t Finley get here at nine?” 

“Bollocks, yes.” Albus stifled a massive yawn.

“Come on, the last time you fell asleep on this sofa, you had a stiff neck for days.” 

Scorpius led him to their bedroom, stripping his work robes off and assuming almost exactly the same tangled position on their bed instead. 

“There, you can fall asleep now. Thanks for waiting up for me.”

Albus sighed against his chest. “Now I’m awake again.” 

Silence fell between them; Scorpius drew slow, methodical circles over Albus’ back for a while before he broke the quiet atmosphere. “Are you still awake?” he whispered.

“Mmmhmm,” Albus replied. 

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Scorpius started boldly. “You know,  _ the  _ something, our big decision.”

“Wasn’t that what we agreed? To think about it, and talk about it.” Albus yawned. 

“Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say. I’ve been thinking, and now I’m talking.” He cleared his throat. “I was having that conversation with dad, the other day at the market, talking to him about surrogacy and how it works, and I realised I didn’t even  _ mention _ adoption to him.”

“Alright, what does that mean?” Albus let his eyelids flutter closed for a second. 

“It’s like, when I picture having a baby with you, I always think of the whole thing, pregnancy and our baby being born, a little baby with some of our genetics.” He paused for a second. “Not that I wouldn’t love a baby who didn’t have any of our genes of course. Maybe it was just because I’d been speaking to dad about magical genetics.” 

“I really want to talk to you about this,” Albus spoke around a yawn, “but you deserve my full attention and I’m about to pass out.” 

Scorpius chuckled. “Sorry. Goodnight, my love.” He kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

Albus barely managed to mumble that he loved Scorpius too before sleep became too hard to fight, and the next thing he knew, he was waking to the sound of his alarm and the delightfully comforting feeling of knowing he was in Scorpius’ arms. 

“Morning, baby,” Albus mumbled sleepily, moving to turn the alarm charm off by shaking his wand. “You’re still here.” 

“The one perk of these night shifts,” Scorpius smiled, accepting Albus’ open arms and falling into them gracefully. “Did you sleep well?”

“The best. It’s nice having you in here again,” Albus commented, twirling a strand of Scorpius’ hair around his fingertips. 

“I sleep here every night,” Scorpius protested. “Mostly.”

“But you know, this, in the morning. Building each other up for the day.” Albus gestured between them. 

“You could always start waking up at 5am with me,” Scorpius shrugged. 

Albus paused for a second, his fingers freezing mid-twirl. “Would you like me to start doing that?” 

“Of course not.” Scorpius gently held his face and directed Albus’ gaze up and into his eyes. “Were you actually thinking about it?” 

Albus gave a little shrug.

“Albus, you’re the sweetest.” Scorpius pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“What time will you leave tonight?”

Scorpius thought for a second. “Seven thirty, maybe eight?”

“Alright, I’m due at Teddy’s by seven.”

“Fleamont’s stuff? Or are you having your hair cut?” Scorpius questioned, playing with Albus’ hair gently as he asked. 

Albus pulled at a strand of his fringe, crossing his eyes to inspect it. “Probably both, actually. But mainly Fleamont’s, the StarBrews thing. He’ll know if I need to run this by Rose or not.” 

Even though Albus was sure he should speak to a lawyer, for some reason, running it all by Teddy felt so much safer. Teddy was a real adult and would tell Albus if he was being irrational in this reaction.

“Rose will want to know anyway; it was her idea for you to get the US patent. Harrington’s being such a negative niffler about it all, it’s not like he’s going to be much help. He’s the same about my home testing kit idea.” 

“Harrington would rather swallow a flobberworm than help me.” Albus managed a laugh. 

Scorpius was fervent in the belief that StarBrews couldn’t get away with this again and that he wasn’t going to let them steal the Invigoration potion with fireseed and that Albus would get a US patent first. It was very sweet how sure he was, given Scorpius had absolutely no control over the processing of international potion patents. He’d started drafting a letter to his dad about it all, which Albus had gently put a stop to. Draco would be furious, it was a face to face conversation Albus wanted to have only when he’d gathered all of the information he needed first. 

“I’m sure there are people in the world who swear by swallowing flobberworms.” Scorpius grinned.

“What if I’m overreacting, though? This probably happens all the time to other people too.”

Scorpius frowned. “Albus, they’ve stolen your potions  _ twice  _ already. Enough is enough!”

“I can’t prove that,” Albus said with a defeated shrug.

“Well, let me know what Teddy says.” Scorpius kissed his forehead. “And send me a picture of your hair.”

“What for?”

“Because you look nice and work is long,” Scorpius said with a laugh.

* * *

That evening, Albus Flooed into the old apartment above Teddy’s shop slightly early and he wasn’t surprised to find it empty. Nobody lived there anymore, not since Teddy and Victoire had got married and moved to the coast, but as his shop was still there on the Hogsmeade high street, it was where Albus tended to meet Teddy to talk business. There was a large dining table which was useful for spreading out marketing images and a shelving unit which housed all of the overstock for the hair potions Teddy used in his shop downstairs.

Albus glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head in confusion when he read the time; it seemed to have stopped. He sighed as he sat down on the sofa and his eyes fell to the coffee table where a framed picture of Pippa and Clementine as babies made him smile. He picked it up and watched fondly as the two girls waved their arms about and kicked their legs and smiled. It was such a vivid time in his life, the twins being that little. He and Scorpius were both in school, Scorpius nowhere near deciding which department he wanted to work in and Albus almost finished with his potioneering licence exams. They lived together, worked hard in the day, came home to each other every night and then spent every weekend with all their old school friends. 

He was only twenty-five, surely he wasn’t supposed to be reminiscing on his younger years already? 

Replacing the photo frame, Albus noticed a letter, half sticking out of its envelope and, before he’d even considered what he was doing, he’d read the first line.

_ Dear Mr Lupin, your test results are enclosed.  _

Albus’ eyes widened as it registered with him that this probably wasn’t supposed to be something he was reading; he had no knowledge of any tests Teddy might have been receiving the results for. He tried not to think about it, pretending he hadn’t read it, while at the same time running over lots of possibilities in his mind. Had Teddy gone back to school for something and kept it quiet?

But then he spotted the crest on the envelope the letter came from, and again, he’d read it before he could stop himself:  _ The Ivy Clinic. _

Why was Teddy having tests done at a clinic?

At that moment, Teddy’s wolf patronus crept over and sat patiently before speaking. “Just saw my last client out. Cleaning up, come down if you want.”

Albus tried to replace the letter exactly as it had been, not wanting Teddy to suspect he’d seen something clearly personal, and made for the stairs which lead directly into Teddy’s shop. The lights and music were both still on but it was only Teddy inside, using his wand to instruct a broom sweeping the floor. Albus always thought the place smelled really good: a combination of shampoo and hair potion and something sort of sweet. 

“Hi, Al.” Teddy gathered up an armful of bottles and dodged out of the way of the broom which was scooting around, sweeping the floor by itself. “Won’t be a second.”

“No worries.” Albus smiled, unable to stop himself scrutinising Teddy for invisible health issues he might be having tests for. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” He was inspecting each bottle before putting it away in the correct place. “Oh, actually, could you turn the music off? It drives me a bit mad by the end of the day.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Albus ducked behind the reception desk where he knew Teddy kept a music box and tapped it twice with his wand. The song playing stopped immediately. 

He crossed back over to where Teddy was, sitting down on one of the posh chairs and absent mindedly spinning himself from side to side with his feet. Albus caught a glance of himself in the big mirror and his hand went automatically to his hair, ruffling it into place where it was in its usual mess. Teddy cleared his throat, amused, and Albus realised he was still staring at himself and playing with his hair.

“Alright?” Teddy sat on the chair next to him and chuckled. “Is this your version of making an appointment with me?”

Albus rolled his eyes. “No, I really do need to talk to you about my Invigoration potion.”

“I know.” Teddy gave him a knowing look. “You don’t actually have an appointment booked before our holiday though.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” Albus sat up straighter and scrutinised Teddy. “Dad won’t even give me a clue.”

“Maybe,” Teddy replied cryptically. 

“You do know!  _ Teddy _ ,” Albus whined. 

“I promised Harry I wouldn’t say!” Teddy held both hands up with a smirk. “I think he’s going to tell everyone at Sunday dinner this week.”

“This is a betrayal of brotherhood,” Albus muttered. “James is my favourite now.”

“Okay, he’ll be thrilled.” Teddy shrugged. “So do you want a haircut?” 

“It grows so bloody quickly,” Albus said, running his hand through his hair and watching it fall into place in the mirror. “Do you have time?”

“Of course! It won’t take long.” Teddy grinned slyly, “and you are truly terrible at actually making an appointment.”

“Luckily, you’re such a wonderfully accommodating family member and I don’t need to.” Albus put on a false, simpering expression. 

“Scorpius always makes an appointment…” Teddy muttered, moving away to get the things he needed. “But let’s talk, what happened with Harrington?” 

Albus scowled. “Well, I asked him if I could apply for the US patent too.”

“And he said no?” Teddy questioned gently. 

“He didn’t have to.” Albus hadn’t stopped scowling. “Apparently StarBrews already have an Invigoration potion registered so applying for the US patent is a bit pointless. Guess I’m not as original as I thought.” 

Teddy had paused midway through combing Albus’ hair and he frowned. “There’s no  _ way. _ How could they possibly have thought of it too? How long have you been developing that?”

“I mean, I started experimenting with removing the firecrab back when I was still studying for my licence years ago. And you know I’ve been working on the potion with fireseed for months.” 

“And how widely talked about is the concept of taking out firecrab?” 

“I’ve never heard it mentioned by anyone,” Albus mumbled. 

Teddy shook his head. “It’s too much to be a coincidence.”

Albus shrugged and rattled off the line he’d heard too many times. “I have no proof they’re stealing from me.”

“We know they’re stealing from you,” Teddy muttered darkly. “I still think you should sue for breach of copyright” 

“It’s not under my copyright unless they try and sell it in Europe.”

“Ask Rose to help you sue them? She’s never failed.” 

“She wouldn’t take the case, I haven’t got grounds to sue.”

Teddy hummed in thought, working on the back of Albus’ hair. “I know you won’t want to do this, but could you postpone the launch and try to get the patent? You had the idea first.”

“It takes a minimum of sixteen weeks,” Albus added with an eye roll. “And there’s a less than zero chance I’ll get the US patent even after all of that. They don’t care who had the idea first.”

“I’m sorry, Al. The system is completely against you here.” 

“I don’t want to postpone the launch,” he sighed. “I suppose I’ll just have to let it happen this time and get in there much earlier with my next potion, see if I can get the US patent earlier.”

Teddy sighed too, moving round to stand in front of Albus. “Close your eyes,” he instructed and Albus did. “What do you have in the pipeline next for Fleamont’s?” 

Albus thought for a second, his eyes still closed while Teddy cut his fringe. The potion he wanted to return to most was also the most precious design he’d ever conceptualised. It was a potion with the intention of allowing people who carried blood curses to procreate without a risk of passing the curse on. The only person who even knew he’d had the idea was Scorpius and that was only because Albus would never have even attempted it without his approval. Together they’d decided he should call it  _ Astoria’s Draught, _ but Albus was far from even having the beginnings of a recipe.

“Nothing immediate, I have a few more knotgrass experiments I want to work on,” Albus said vaguely. 

“Well, whatever you think of next, you should get on to Harrington for that US patent straight away. We won’t let them get away with this again, Albus.” 

“Yeah, I definitely will.” Albus could already hear Harrington’s bemused disapproval of the idea.  _ It’s never been done before, are you sure it’s possible?  _ “Do you think there’s anyone else I can ask about the US patent? I hate that it always has to go through Harrington.”

“Yeah, he’s not the most progressive, is he.”

Albus screwed his face up and sighed, placing his head in his hands. “I need to talk to Rose.” 

“Good idea, ask Rose, get the full picture. We’ll be one step ahead of them next time, I promise, Al.”

“Thanks, Ted.” Albus smiled gratefully.

“Always here to fight your corner, no betrayals of brotherhood here.” He quirked his lip as he rubbed hair potion through Albus’ hair, styling it into place and taking a step back. “Your hair’s finished.”

“Thank you, you’re the best, seriously.” 

Teddy smiled bashfully, a faint blush growing across his cheeks. He looked down and Albus thought of the letter he’d accidentally seen upstairs.

“Ted, are you okay?” 

Teddy smiled brightly; too brightly. “Oh yes! Absolutely fine, just a bit exhausted, but what’s new?”

He was doing the thing Scorpius did when he was covering something up with false over enthusiasm. His eyes were wide and looked as if they were just as likely to burst into tears as they were show excitement. 

“No really, Ted. Is something wrong?” 

Teddy sighed and looked down at his shoes for a second. “The girls aren’t getting along at the moment.” 

Albus blinked, not having expected that. “Oh, what’s the matter with them?” 

“Clementine’s having some big feelings, sort of a form of anxiety, and she’s finding it difficult to sleep which makes things worse. Pip’s such an empath that she’s picking up on how down her sister is but Clementine doesn’t want the extra attention Pippa’s trying to give her. So they keep descending into squabbles.” 

Albus frowned. “They’ve always gotten along so well, almost impressively considering they spend every second together.”

“They’re more like you and James were now,” Teddy laughed. 

Albus gave him a sympathetic look. “If you need a night off, you know me and Scor are only ever a Floo call away.” 

“With BCF going on? No, I couldn’t do that to Scorpius.” Teddy shook his head.

“I don’t have BCF going on,” Albus shrugged. “I can babysit.”

“Thanks, Al. That’s kind of you to offer.”

“Take me up on it, please!” Albus nudged him with his shoulder. “You and Vic should go and have a date night. I can take them by myself.”

Teddy looked uncertain.

“Or I’ll ask Lily to help me if Scorpius is at work?” he added hopefully.

“Alright, you’ve twisted my arm. I’ll speak to Vic and let you know.” He smiled convincingly. “Now can I see your new tattoo?” 

Albus rearranged the neckline of his top so his new paper swan was just about visible and angled it towards Teddy. “It’s all healed up now.”

Teddy inspected it for a second. “Wow, Al! It turned out so well. Did Hal do it?”

“Of course,” Albus said with a shrug.

“But you designed it?” Teddy was still watching the swan and Albus nodded. “They’re the best at bringing your sketches to life. Are you pleased with it?” 

Albus grinned. “Very. Now I promised Scorpius I’d send him a picture…” 

Teddy smirked. 

“Of my  _ hair _ ,” Albus corrected himself, rolling his eyes. 

* * *

A week later, Albus ended up in Rose’s annoyingly immaculate office. Her filing system was reminiscent of Harrington’s and everything was at perpendicular angles. The large potted plant on her desk suddenly gave a jolt as an automatic watering charm misted it and Albus unintentionally jumped too; Rose smirked and he felt himself blush. 

“Okay, what’s the problem?”

“The US patent. I spent  _ months  _ perfecting this new recipe, Rosie.” Albus unintentionally slammed his hand down onto her desk. “Sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “My inkwell forgives you.” 

He grimaced and continued. “They have the same idea registered so even if I apply and wait the  _ sixteen weeks _ \- did you know it takes that long, Rose? - they’ll probably say no to me anyway because of StarBrews.” 

“Do you have the UK patent with you? I’ll need to take a copy.” Rose sounded business-like as usual. 

“Yeah, in here.” Albus gestured vaguely to his briefcase. “It just seems far too suspicious to me that StarBrews happened to have the same idea in the time between me getting the UK patent and now.”

“But you are applying for the US patent?” Rose looked vaguely impressed.

“I was going to,” Albus whined, “but they won’t give it to me now StarBrews have stolen the idea.”

“How would they have been able to steal your idea?” Rose said bluntly. 

Albus opened his mouth to retort but Rose cut him off. 

“I’m not saying they didn’t. That’s a real question.” She raised an eyebrow like she was telling him off. “Al, I’m on your side here. This is shit and I want to help you.” 

“Sorry.” He tried to rearrange his face into a less confrontational one. “I don’t know for sure that they  _ stole  _ it. It just… feels like they did.”

“I don’t think you have grounds to sue them, Al. But I agree it’s suspicious.” She thought for a second. “Maybe you need to get to the IPG of America yourself and appeal for the US patent.”

“Wouldn’t make a difference,” Albus grumbled. “My potioneering licence is British, they won’t even give me an appointment. It’s in the wizarding constitution or something.” He shook his head in annoyance. “The only way I can get the US patent is through Harrington’s office.”

Rose was still deep in thought. “Okay, how quickly can you get a potioneering licence for the US?”

Albus goggled at her. “Get a  _ what?!” _

“You just said yourself you can’t get an appointment with the licence you have. How quickly can you change that?” She blinked. 

“Rose, it took me _ two years  _ to get my licence. There are four rounds of exams.”

“So, this time around, a year?” Rose seemed to be weighing up options. “Perhaps still too late for the Invig potion but when this inevitably comes up again…”

“No! I’m not getting another licence. I’m too busy, with the business and building the house and…” He stopped, not wanting to say  _ the baby _ out loud. “And everything else.”

She shrugged, unbothered by how busy Albus’ life was. “Well that’s the only way I can think for you to stop this happening again.”

“I just won’t sell in the US, whatever,” Albus grumbled. “Thanks, Rose.” 

“I think you’re giving up too quickly,” she said in a sing-song voice, standing up and picking up a stack of parchment from the desk. “I have a meeting with Sports and Games but you’re welcome to sit here in my office and sulk.”

“No, I’m coming.” Albus pulled himself from the chair with great effort, trailing after Rose with an exaggerated sigh.

“Poor Albus Potter,” Rose teased. 

“Potter- _ Malfoy _ ,” he said childishly. 

They walked down the corridor together when Albus spotted none other than his own dad leaving the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

“Albus? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hi, Dad.” Albus accepted the arm squeeze his dad often offered.

“Hello, Rose.” He smiled kindly at them both. “Did you get my invitation?”

“Oh, yes, I did.” Rose nodded. “Very… shiny. Nice font. Cute photo.”

Sensing this wasn’t a work thing, Albus felt indignant. “I didn’t get any invitation!” He looked incredulously between the both of them.

“Yes you did, Scorpius already RSVPd for the both of you,” his dad chuckled, “but I presumed you’d be coming to your mum’s fiftieth birthday party anyway.” He thought for a second. “Sorry,  _ surprise _ fiftieth birthday party. I keep forgetting that part.”

“You’re throwing Mum a surprise party?” Albus raised one eyebrow. “As in, Mum, who can sense a secret being kept from her and who you are incapable of lying to? That Mum?”

Rose snorted with laughter. 

“Yes, and by holding it several weeks before her birthday, she won’t suspect a thing.” He folded his arms triumphantly. “ _ And _ , it’s fancy dress.” 

Albus groaned as Rose continued laughing. 

“The theme is 80s,” she told him, appearing to take great delight in doing so.

Albus rolled his eyes as he quickly thought of an 80s costume he could wear that involved the least amount of dressing up. “Fine.”

“Scorpius probably has a couples costume in mind,” Rose said, as if she could hear Albus’ thoughts.

Albus ignored her with an annoyed harrumph that just made Rose laugh more.“Where is it? Seeing as I haven’t been allowed to see the invitation for myself.”

“St Edwen’s Stadium,” his dad replied. 

“The grounds of her old team?” Albus said in a deadpan voice.

“She’ll never suspect a thing,” he replied confidently.

Rose stopped laughing. “Great idea, Uncle Harry,” she said weakly. “Well, I’ve got to get going. See you later.”

She left in the opposite direction while Albus and Harry both headed for the lifts. His dad held the lift door open a second longer so Albus could step in. 

“You weren’t here to see me, were you?” 

“No, not you. Rose. I’m having some issues with a copyright.” 

Harry sighed sympathetically. “Not again. I know you hate all of this bit.” He gestured vaguely at Albus. 

“What  _ bit _ ?” Albus felt a bit offended but he wasn’t sure why.

“You know,  _ this,  _ smart robes and standing in a lift. When I came off the field that was the  _ worst  _ part, no longer just getting to do the bit I loved.” 

“I don’t mind the robes,” Albus shrugged, “or the lift, or even the meetings. It’s just Harrington being an arse. And America. I do not like America.” 

His dad nodded in understanding. “You know, Albus, I think you deserve a bit of a break. When was the last time you took a day off potioning?”

Albus thought for a second. “Christmas Day.” A thought occurred to him. “Speaking of breaks, when are you going to tell me about the holiday? Teddy knows!”

“Teddy has two children to consider,” his dad reasoned.

Albus mumbled something about a betrayal of brotherhood again. 

His dad heard him and sighed. “In my defence, James wasn’t supposed to find out yet. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“What?! James knows too?”

Harry looked sheepish. “Sort of.” 

“That is so unfair. Dad, I think you owe it to me, your favourite son, to tell me-“

“Yeah, alright, Al. Point taken.” His dad pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Albus nodded with a bit of a scowl. “Does Lily know? Am I the last to know?” 

“Are you on the way home now?”

“Dad,” Albus noticed his avoidance of the question. “Am I really the last to know?” 

Harry fell into an exaggerated coughing fit.

“ _ Dad.  _ You told Lily and James but not me?”

“I didn’t tell either of them, Lily’s too nosy for her own good and sat at the top of the stairs listening. I can’t wait for her to move out.”

Albus scoffed. “That’s a huge lie.” 

“Still, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

“Actually, no. You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” Albus narrowed his eyes. “Is it somewhere we’ve been before?”

“Sort of,” Harry said cryptically. 

“How can we have  _ sort of  _ been there before? We either have or we haven’t.” 

“Okay, fine, yes you have been to this country before. But never this particular part.”

“Since leaving school?” Albus pressed.

“Definitely.” 

“Is it in Europe?” 

“It is not,” his dad said casually, like he was trying not to be too affirmative. 

Albus racked his brains for countries he’d been to since leaving school, dismissing them one at a time.

“It’s not America,” he mused aloud, thinking of the countries, “and those are all in Europe.”

His dad had a smirk on his face. 

“What? What’s that look for?” Albus surveyed his dad. “ _ Is  _ it America?”

“You should consider retraining as an Auror, Al. Very perceptive.”

“No thanks.” Albus waved his hand dismissively. “But are we going to America? A state we haven’t been to before?” 

“That sounds like what I implied,” his dad was still being infuriatingly cryptic. “But you  _ do not like America.” _

“Dad!” Albus whined. “Where are we going in America?”

“Guess.”

“Arizona,” Albus threw out randomly. 

“No.”

“Er, Miami?” 

“No.”

“These guesses are all based on my limited knowledge of American Quidditch. Help me out, Dad.” 

“Fine. We’re going to Hawaii.” 

Immediately, Albus pictured himself on an idyllic sandy beach with lapping waves and blazing sun, Scorpius sipping delicately from a coconut. 

“Wow, really?”

“Yes, and now poor Scorpius is the only one who doesn’t know.” Harry thought for a second. “Sort of. Are you on the way home? Is Scorpius in?”

“Yeah, he should be. He’s still on night shifts though so he might be asleep.” Albus followed him out of the lift and in the direction of the many Floo fireplaces. He checked his watch. “Oh, no, he’ll be awake by now.”

“Great, I’ll come with you then, if that’s okay.”

“Where in Hawaii?” Albus immediately started to enquire but his dad shushed him and thrust some Floo powder into his hand.

The delicious smell of baking met Albus’ senses as his living room spun into view; Scorpius was most definitely awake.. It had been ages since Scorpius had had the energy to bake anything and the thought pleased Albus greatly. 

“Hello!” Scorpius called out as Albus stepped from the floo and brushed ash from his shirt. 

“Brought Dad too!” Albus added quickly. Scorpius had a tendency to bake shirtless (he claimed he got too hot otherwise) and he knew he’d want some warning. 

But as the Floo glowed green with Harry’s arrival, he looked up to see Scorpius was fully clothed and wearing a striped apron with Pepper peeking out of the pocket. There was a smudge of icing sugar on his cheek and a spatula in his hand.

“I’m making you macarons,” he explained with a smile. “Hello, Harry. It’s nice to see you.” They hugged briefly, Scorpius’ spatula threatening to get batter all over the back of Harry’s robes. 

“Hi, Scorpius. It’s lovely to see you too.” 

“Dad needs to tell us something,” Albus explained, communicating with his eyes to Scorpius that it was nothing to worry about. 

He nodded. “I’d offer you a macaron, but they aren’t ready yet.” Scorpius turned back towards the kitchen behind him. “Er, actually, I’m at a bit of a delicate part. Do you mind if we take this conversation to the kitchen? I can listen while I finish  _ le macaronage.”  _

Albus felt himself soften a little bit with fondness as he appreciated his husband. He had some of his usual sparkle back today and he looked like he’d slept well. Albus wondered if things were looking up at work, maybe they’d finally agreed to do Scorpius’ home test kit.

With his dad already halfway to the kitchen, Albus quickly pulled Scorpius in for a kiss. Scorpius grinned in surprise and tapped Albus lightly on the nose with his spatula. “I’m making lemon, your favourite.” 

“Knew I married you for a reason.” 

“What’s this about?” Scorpius gestured to Harry.

“Wait and see.” 

Harry was waiting expectantly for them, his hands in his trouser pockets and randomly inspecting the calendar on the wall. “We’ve chosen a destination for this year’s family holiday,” he announced proudly.

“Oh goodie!” Scorpius clapped his hands and handed the spatula to Albus without even looking at him. “Your turn, babe.” 

Albus rolled his eyes but accepted the spatula, continuing to beat air out of the macaron mixture like Scorpius had been doing.

“Where are we going?” Scorpius asked excitedly. 

“The island of Kauai,” his dad said with a glint in his eye.

“Huh?” Albus put the spatula down. “I thought you said we were going to Hawaii?” 

Scorpius’ jaw had dropped. “Kauai is one of the Hawaiian islands, in fact it was the first Polynesian island wizards settled. Are we really going there?” 

“Yep.” Harry nodded proudly. “We thought Hawaii would be fun, Gin did some research into which island we should visit and found out exactly that. We thought you’d like that fact, Scorpius.” 

“I do! Thank you!” Scorpius beamed. 

Albus smiled to himself at his husband’s enthusiasm as he stopped beating the macaron mixture. “Is this enough?” 

Scorpius leant over to peer into the bowl and nodded, sliding it away from Albus. “Hawaii! That’s so exciting! I’ve always wanted to go. What’s the time difference? It must be around ten hours, getting that portkey will feel strange. Is this the furthest away we’ve ever been?” He blinked rapidly.

Albus’ dad always looked a bit perplexed when Scorpius went off on a babble like that; Albus just found it endearing. “We thought this was the year to go a bit further. The twins are old enough to take a portkey now, we have no under fives and… and who knows if that’ll be the case next year.”

Scorpius’ eyebrows shot up and he exchanged a hurried glance with Albus.

But Harry just smiled. “There was one other thing I wanted to say, too,” he said.

Albus stared at him curiously, not aware of anything else he needed to say. “What is it, Dad?”

“Scorpius,” Harry looked right at him, “how do you think your dad would feel about coming with us this year?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! I say it every week but I am simply blown away by the support, the comments you leave and the lovely things you say and the kudos each week are such a huge boost to my mood! 
> 
> i'd love to connect!  
> tumblr: littlerose13writes  
> instagram: littlerose13writes
> 
> Also shoutout to this [gorgeous piece of art](https://yendts.tumblr.com/post/643844064525090816/healer-scorpius-and-potioneer-albus-inspired-by) showing Albus and Scorpius in their jobs by yendts! Thank you, I love it so much <3
> 
> have a great week everyone, happy first day of March! xx


	7. Chapter 6 - Flip-Flops and Fancy Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist: [Abc - Alexander Fairchild](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRWS0W_ddKM)

The sun blazed through the cloudless sky, reminding them all it was almost July and England was making a valiant attempt at summer weather. Scorpius loved the sunshine but he could do without the sticky, uncomfortable heat of the day; he wished he’d chosen a thinner t-shirt but most of his wardrobe wasn’t designed for hot weather. Still, that was the purpose of the day, with the holiday to Hawaii only three weeks away now. 

Scorpius ran a hand through his hair, noting that it was long enough to fully tuck behind his ear by now. He made a mental note to make another appointment with Teddy soon, even though he’d had to cancel his last two when work got too crazy. It was a bit of a miracle he hadn’t been called in yet today, despite working until almost midnight the night before, staying late to give Harmony more intensive charm therapy. He was hoping she might be well enough to go home soon; she was in her own room and almost clear of BCF now, but it had taken her three months to get there.

After spending the first part of the morning catching up on sleep, Scorpius was now in muggle Central London with his dad shopping for holiday clothes. He’d invited Albus along and, while he usually quite liked clothes shopping, he’d chosen to stay at home and work on some Fleamont’s things with Finley. Scorpius liked spending some one on one time with his dad, particularly since he’d told him about their plans to have a baby and could freely talk about it. 

“Not quite yet,” his dad said fondly with a bit of a smirk, and Scorpius realised he’d been staring at the edge of the children’s section, at a display of tiny trousers in all different colours.

“Just looking,” Scorpius replied innocently.

They were in one of the few muggle clothing shops his dad would set foot in. Not because he was prejudiced against the idea of them being muggle shops; he was equally picky about wizarding shops too. But Draco Malfoy didn’t really buy or wear muggle clothes, preferring bespoke, tailored robes purchased directly from an expensive boutique in France. He’d done a good job at dressing like a muggle today; only Scorpius knew his trousers were actually part of a robes set, and his shoes were made of dragon hide. 

“Whereabouts would you like to look first?” Draco said, a bit stiffly. 

Scorpius smiled at his dad and led him over to some shirts, reminding him they were shopping for them _both_ today. 

When Scorpius started Hogwarts, and came home that first Christmas requesting new clothes more like his friend Albus wore, they’d ventured into muggle London as a family to work something out. His dad had still insisted on sending the muggle clothes they bought (from a shop called _Marks and Spencer_ which had seemed suitable) to his French tailor so they would fit perfectly, but Scorpius had been a very content twelve-year-old. 

Since getting together with Albus, particularly after graduating and shopping together a lot more, Scorpius’ muggle clothing changed a lot. Apart from his work uniform, Scorpius barely ever wore robes and he now had a selection of shops he liked to choose from; nearly all introduced to him by Albus. 

Some of them (like _Urban Outfitters_ ) were just a bit too much for his dad, but _Ralph Lauren_ clothes were classic, well-made and didn’t come in any garish colours, so Scorpius’ dad approved. That’s where they’d started today, although Scorpius knew his dad was still bordering on uncomfortable. 

“This one’s nice,” he said confidently, holding a classic and very plain buttoned shirt up to show his dad. “It would be good for Hawaii,” he added when his dad said nothing. 

“And what does one wear with it?” Draco asked cooly, accepting the hanger Scorpius passed to him.

“We’ll find something,” Scorpius smiled encouragingly. “You’re going to look great, Dad.”

His dad mumbled something incoherent as Scorpius turned back to look at the shirts. 

He ran his fingertip over the little embroidered man on a horse which embellished all the shirts in the shop and was over the doorway. Apparently he was playing a muggle sport called Polo, which seemed to be a bit like Quidditch, but on horses and with fewer balls. Scorpius once asked Albus if he’d ever played Polo at his muggle primary school, to which he had scoffed, explained only posh muggles played Polo and asked Scorpius where he thought they would have got that many horses in a small village school. 

“You know it’s going to be too hot for that,” Scorpius said as his dad inspected a finely knitted, grey wool jumper. 

“Thank you for that insightful information, Scorpius,” he retorted with a bit of an eye roll. 

“This is more like it!” Scorpius excitedly spotted a display of swimming trunks and picked up the nearest pair; yellow with a bold floral print. “How much is sixty five pounds in galleons?” 

“You’d have to pay _me_ to wear those.” His dad raised an eyebrow. “Dotty and Angelica would laugh themselves silly at me.”

“Well I didn’t mean for you, Dad.” Scorpius glanced at the trunks again. “Too _garish,_ I’m sure,” he teased. “Although personally I think Angelica and Dotty would love them. Perhaps you could even wear them to the next farmers’ market committee meeting?” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “How about these ones?” He picked up a plain blue pair. 

Glancing between the blue pair in his dad’s hands and the floral pair in his own, Scorpius pursed his lips. “They’re a bit plain.”

“Well I didn’t mean for _you_ , Scorpius _,”_ his dad mimicked his earlier phrase and they shared a smile. 

“Albus would look nice in those,” Scorpius mused, taking them from his dad’s hand, then he stopped. “Unless you wanted to get them?”

His dad frowned. “I won’t be swimming on this holiday.” 

“But it’s _Hawaii,”_ Scorpius countered, a bit frustrated. 

Looking away, his dad pulled his right sleeve down a bit further. 

“Dad,” Scorpius hesitated and leaned forward. “It’s going to be fun, and the Potters are all so great. You know that, I know you know that.” 

“I am indeed aware of that,” his dad bristled slightly. 

“Nobody cares about… you know.” He nodded his head vaguely in the direction of his dad’s arm where he still had hold of the sleeve. 

His dad looked at him very seriously. “I know,” he said shortly. “I know.” 

Scorpius reached for his dad’s forearm and gave it a small squeeze, encouraging a tiny smile on his dad’s lips. “You can cover it if you feel more comfortable,” Scorpius said gently. 

He could still remember being a little boy, no older than five or six, and his dad curling up in bed with him when he couldn’t sleep. Draco read him story after story, but Scorpius wasn’t sleepy, resulting in him lying awake against his sleeping dad and looking at the pictures in the book himself. His curious little mind had wandered and he found himself gently pulling back his dad’s sleeve, inspecting the strange, long scar underneath. It had a distinct shape to it, but Scorpius couldn’t make it out, maybe some kind of animal? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to be looking at it. 

So when his mother had come in to check on them and found Scorpius gently stroking the mark on his dad’s arm, she’d scooped him up wordlessly and carried him from the room. Scorpius wasn’t sure if he was in trouble, but then his mother sat him down and explained that one day, when he was older, Daddy would tell him why he had a mark on his arm, that it was nothing to worry about but that it made his dad sad to talk about it sometimes. Scorpius didn’t want to ever make his dad sad, so he never told him he’d seen it. 

“There are charms, things I can do…” his dad trailed off, inspecting a nearby shirt with more concentration than was necessary. 

“Whatever you want to do, Dad.” Scorpius bit his lip, unsure if he should change the subject. “You know it’s meaningless.” 

Scorpius couldn’t remember ever being specifically told, but he went to Hogwarts with the knowledge that his dad had made some choices he regretted, had ended up on the wrong side of the war, had been a Death Eater before he was even out of school. Scorpius wasn’t stupid; he had known his dad still had remnants of the dark mark on his arm, that that’s what he’d seen as a little boy. And he knew that his dad’s secrecy around the subject came from a place of deep regret and fear. 

It wasn’t until Scorpius’ fourth year, when he’d properly divulged the things he’d seen in the dark world, told his dad who’d he’d been in that world, that he saw the mark again. His dad had pulled his sleeve back with a deep sigh, allowing Scorpius to see the jagged mess of scarring, the tip of a snake’s tail and the eyes of a skull still barely visible. Tears had filled Scorpius’ eyes and his dad had quickly hidden it, apologised for scaring him. But Scorpius hastened to explain that he wasn’t crying because he was scared, rather that he was proud of his dad, that the old mark was a reminder that he’d turned away from those regretful choices. 

“It’s… you can barely see it,” Draco muttered then looked straight into Scorpius’ eyes, “thanks to you. But-“

“I know, you still don’t like it much.” 

Three years ago, when Scorpius had first qualified as a junior Healer, he’d performed some basic skin regeneration surgery on his dad’s arm; the only adult he’d ever lead treatment for. The barely there darkness was now gone, none of the trace of the mark at all visible, and some of the scar tissue had been regenerated into healed skin. It was impossible to know what it had once been. His dad still didn’t like to talk about it.

“How about this?” Draco said, and Scorpius acknowledged that he wanted to change the subject now. 

He smiled widely when he noticed that his dad was holding up a buttoned linen shirt with short sleeves. 

“That’s great, Dad. I think that’ll look very nice.” 

His dad hung the shirt over his arm with a pleased sort of smirk and approached another rack a short distance away. Scorpius watched him and smiled to himself, comfortably enjoying his father’s company. 

“These look rather appropriate. What do you think?” He proffered two identical pairs of smart chino trousers, one in black and the other in charcoal grey. They wouldn’t have looked out of place under robes, but the muggle in the large photo on the wall was wearing the grey pair with an open collar shirt and walking along a softly lit beach. 

Scorpius was almost certain his dad already owned virtually the same items of clothing at home, but he looked rather pleased with himself for having picked something out, so he didn’t say so.

“Er, yeah, they’re nice, Dad.” Scorpius ran his hand along a nearby rack curiously. “What about for on the beach and things like that? In the day when it’s boiling.” 

“You tell me,” Draco raised one eyebrow. 

“Hmm, why don’t you try these?” Scorpius offered up a pair of navy blue, linen, knee-length shorts. They were essentially the same as the trousers he’d already picked up, cutting off at the knee instead of continuing. 

“Aren’t they the same as the pair you’re trying on?”

Scorpius grinned. “No, mine are pink. Would you like pink ones?” He held up the coral coloured version he’d chosen. 

“Perhaps not,” his dad grinned too. 

His dad ended up with the navy blue shorts and the linen shirt (he’d decided the trousers weren’t for him) and Scorpius had a whole array of new things he liked, as well as some items for Albus too. They were in the queue to pay, Scorpius well practiced in using the plastic, muggle-style bank cards Gringotts issued for this very purpose. As they waited, Scorpius spotted a display of flip-flops in a range of patterns. Albus always said shops only displayed things by the tills to trick you into buying things you didn’t come in for, but Scorpius really _did_ need some new flip-flops for the holiday. 

“I need some flip-flops actually, for the beach,” Scorpius mused to himself. “Do you want a pair, Dad?”

His dad looked doubtful. “They don’t look very comfortable.”

“These ones. I like these ones.” Scorpius ran his finger over the flip-flops, dark green and patterned with pineapples. “They’re even in the Slytherin colours.”

“Yes, and I hear Salazar Slytherin’s favourite fruit was pineapple,” his dad commented dryly but Scorpius ignored him. 

“Albus doesn’t have any flip-flops actually,” he mused aloud, reaching for a second identical pair. Then he stopped and made to put them back. “Would he hate matching flip-flops?” 

“With anyone else, yes he would,” his dad commented. “But if you come home with those, he’ll wear them.”

Scorpius felt his lips quirk up into a smile because he knew his dad was absolutely right. He held onto the second pair of flip-flops. 

Upon exiting the shop, Draco holding a large paper carrier bag printed with the Polo-playing muggle, Scorpius became aware of someone calling his name from a distance. He peered around in a bit of confusion, not expecting to see anyone he knew in muggle London, but then the grinning and familiar face of Cole Flint came into view. 

It was somehow the opposite of a surprise to randomly see Cole in the middle of muggle London; if he was going to unexpectedly bump into anyone here, it would be Cole.

“Hi, Cole.”

“Hey, Blondie!” Cole grinned and bumped his shoulder into Scorpius’ before his eyes fell to Draco, who simply looked bemused. “Mr Malfoy… the OG blondie.” Cole grinned cheekily. 

“Have you met my dad before?” Scorpius glanced between them. “Dad, this is Cole, you know, from school.”

“Yes, I remember. Hello.” His dad was still looking faintly amused by Cole and being called _the OG blondie_ but Scorpius had told him enough about his friend that he wasn’t all that put out.

They shook hands and Cole grinned. “Have you guys been shopping?”

“Oh, yes. Holiday clothes,” Scorpius answered. 

“Lovely, where are you heading?” Cole folded his arms casually and Scorpius spotted the writing on his t-shirt, which now he looked at it, had clearly been thrown on haphazardly over the checked shirt he’d already been wearing.

“Hawaii,” he said quickly. “Have you been at the Natural History Museum?”

Cole unfolded his arms, glanced down at his t-shirt and plucked at it. “Yeah, I’d never been before, picked this up at the gift shop. They asked if I wanted a bag but I just thought, _nah, wear it now._ ”

“I love it there! Did you find the hidden wizarding section?” 

“Of course,” Cole said proudly. “They had a gallery of hippogriffs, I was all over that.”

“That’s the best part!” Scorpius said. “I can’t believe you hadn’t been before.”

“Neither could…” Cole grinned sheepishly. “Not the point, I’ve been now. So when are you off to Hawaii?”

Scorpius considered the date. “Three weeks from now. We leave on the eleventh.”

“You going with Albus?” 

“It’s actually a big family trip, so Albus’ parents and siblings, and Teddy and his family. And Dad,” Scorpius added, gesturing to his father who smiled uncomfortably. 

“Sounds lush, I’m sure you could do with a break.”

Scorpius shrugged, feeling himself blush a bit; he still wasn’t convinced he should be taking this holiday with the way things were. 

“He’s most certainly earned it,” his dad said earnestly, placing a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder.

Scorpius grimaced slightly and changed the subject. “How are things going for you with your teams?”

Cole sighed. “We had to suspend all the kids’ sessions a few weeks ago when that new Ministry guidance came out. I’d sort of hoped them closing Hogwarts early might mean we could start up again, all those poor kids stuck at home with nothing to do, but they’re not allowed to mix with other households.” Cole pulled a face. “Hoping to do a phased return eventually later on in the summer with smaller groups and things. It’s just that accidental magic is quite common because the kids get so excited when they’re flying and it only takes one of them to have it to possibly infect the others.”

“I’m sorry, that must be tough on the business.”

“Thankfully we still have all the adult teams.” He shrugged. “But I’m way less involved in that, I miss coaching all my littles.” 

Scorpius thought to himself that the home testing kit idea he was so anxious to make happen, which was still in development but looking promising, could be exactly what businesses like Cole’s needed to help function safely. He made a mental note to bring this up at the next crisis meeting to maybe speed things along; the Experimental Spells team were really dragging their heels and his department was still overrun with testing kids.

“These are unprecedented times we’re living through,” his dad said solemnly. 

“Yep.” Cole nodded in agreement. “Anyway, I won’t keep you from your shopping. It was nice to see you both! Blondie, Mr Blondie!” He threw a cheery wave over his shoulder and grinned.

“Bye, enjoy your day!” Scorpius called after him. 

“Have I met him before?” his dad asked when Cole was out of earshot. 

“Definitely, Dad.” Scorpius chuckled.

“What was his name again?”

Scorpius laughed as they headed towards another shop. “Cole Flint. He coaches amateur Quidditch, the Flint Flyers, remember?” 

His dad’s frown of thought cleared. “Of course, Marcus’ son.”

“You should sign up to one of their adult teams, Dad. You’re always saying you want to get back on your broom.”

“I don’t think I’m _always_ saying that, Scorpius.” 

“No, really! I bet you’d love it. Albus is thinking of joining a team, it’s meant to be a lot of fun.”

His dad pursed his lips. “I’ll consider it.” 

After a reasonably successful morning of shopping, during which Scorpius had managed to purchase eighteen items and Draco, six, they stopped for some lunch. It was a small French bistro serving the most perfectly cooked scallops Scorpius had ever tasted. 

His dad eyed him with a concerned expression and sipped at his water. “How’s work been recently?” 

Scorpius sighed. “Intense. We’re still not catching enough Stage Ones, about a quarter of kids are developing to Stage Two, and the potion takes so _long_ to cure them completely. We keep having to magically expand the quarantine ward, but we can’t magically increase the number of staff.” 

“You’re working far too much, it’s not healthy,” his dad looked stern. “Did you sleep badly last night? You look exhausted.” 

Scorpius ran a hand through his hair. “I was on shift until eleven, but then Harmony had another seizure and she needed emergency charm therapy.” He shrugged. “We thought she was over the fitting but it’s started happening again, poor little thing. Her mum’s going spare.”

Draco shuddered at the idea. “When did you get to bed?”

“Three thirty? Maybe four?” Scorpius bit his lip. 

His dad leant back and appraised him over the table. “You went to bed at four am?” 

Scorpius nodded at the table, suddenly feeling like his dad was telling him off. 

“But you met me here at nine thirty,” Draco said in disbelief. “Why didn’t you cancel? We could have gone another day.”

“No we couldn’t,” Scorpius chuckled. “You’re in France with your alchemy buddies next week and then I’ve _got_ to try and get an appointment with Teddy before Hawaii.” He ran his hand through his longer hair demonstratively. 

His dad smirked, adjusting his own ponytail. “I was wondering if you were finally giving in to the Malfoy tradition.”

“Never,” Scorpius chuckled. “I couldn’t grow a ponytail like yours anyway. Look, my hair goes wavy when it gets too long.” He pointed to a strand of his fringe that had a distinct wave to it which he was growing quite accustomed to.

“You got that from your mum,” his dad said softly. “Those are her curls.” 

“Oh.” Scorpius touched the front of his hair in thought, vividly remembering the glossy waves of his mum’s hair. “Maybe I won’t cut it as short as usual.”

His dad looked momentarily touched but then he smirked.

“Still no ponytail,” Scorpius said with a laugh. “Anyway, I wouldn’t have cancelled, I wanted to see you.” 

“Well, I’m very touched, Scorpius. But I would have understood. I’m sorry work is so hard for you at the moment.”

“It’ll get better eventually.” Scorpius smiled optimistically before a yawn took over. He smiled apologetically at his dad.

“Excellent practice for fatherhood. Sleep is a distant dream.” 

Scorpius chuckled. “You’re exaggerating.”

Draco eyed him skeptically. “I am not. As soon as you could crawl, you consistently broke through your sleep charms and somehow climbed into our bed every single night, then woke us up because you wanted to play.” He took a sip of his tea. “And _then_ , when you did eventually fall asleep, you’d kick me in the ribs. Or the face, sometimes it was the face.”

Scorpius laughed. “Is that why I don’t have any siblings?”

“ _Yes_ , Scorpius,” his dad said with a smirk. 

A comfortable pause fell between them. “Tell me again how you settled on naming me Scorpius.”

A nostalgic expression crossed his dad’s features. “Your mother loved the Malfoy tradition of naming our children after the stars, she said it was magical. And you know you came early, don’t you?”

“Three weeks, right?”

“Something like that. You were due in November, well into Scorpio season, so I’m told.”

“But I was born on the twenty-fourth, which _some_ people argue is still Libra,” Scorpius sat up straighter in his chair. “I was talking to Lily about it, how my sun is on the cusp of both and the air/water divide that creates is… you don’t care about all of that.” Scorpius trailed off at his dad’s amused look.

“No, I’m interested.” His dad smiled and sat back, an admiring look on his face. “Would you like us to call you Librus-Scorpius from now on? Or what was the thing about the moon?”

“Stop teasing me,” Scorpius chuckled, then added in a whisper: “my moon is in Cancer, which coincidentally is _your_ rising. But never mind, I’ll save it for Lily.”

“Not Albus?” 

“He’s worse than you,” Scorpius laughed. “Typical Capricorn.”

“How’s Albus doing now he’s got a business partner?”

Scorpius smiled widely, thinking of the gentle buzz of energy emitting from Albus’ workshop these days. “It works well. He and Finley are so similar.”

“I saw his new Invigoration potion being advertised last week. Is that your Pepper Imp in the photos?”

“Yep. Cute, isn’t she?”

“And am I right in thinking he was hoping to sell this one in America?” 

Scorpius had to bite his tongue for a second. Albus had made him promise he wouldn’t tell his dad about StarBrews’ potential theft of the idea but Draco was annoyingly perceptive with such matters. 

“Um, I think he changed his mind. It was going to take months to apply for the US patent or something like that.”

Draco’s expression darkened as if he could sense there was more to it than that but he didn’t say anything.

“Rose still thinks the best option is for him to get an American licence,” Scorpius offered hesitantly. 

His dad frowned. “That would be an awful lot of work for him.”

“He’s thinking about it.” Scorpius shrugged and fell into thought, wondering how to bring up what was on his mind. 

Thankfully, his dad noticed. “Scorpius? What is it?” 

Scorpius paused in thought before answering. “I was considering, well, maybe asking Albus to help us out at work. The potions department I mean, I think they need his help. But I know if I suggest it he’ll feel obligated, even if he doesn’t want to.”

“Does Albus know how things are for the St Mungo’s potions team?”

“Not exactly,” Scorpius said very quietly. 

“Because he’d immediately drop everything if he did,” his dad supplied. 

“Yes, and he wants to get this American licence now.”

His dad thought for a second. “Why doesn’t Finley get the licence instead?” 

“What?”

“It’s just an idea, that way the business can progress and Albus can help you out at St Mungo’s.” 

As much as Scorpius knew Albus trusted Finley, he didn’t know how he’d feel handing over such a responsibility. And he knew his dad was aware of that because he seemed to pick up on Scorpius’ uncertainty.

“You don’t think he’d go for it?” 

Scorpius smirked. “Maybe if _you_ suggested it to him.” 

The faintest of blushes coloured his dad’s cheeks. “What do you mean?” 

“He looks up to you a lot, Dad.”

Draco hid his bashfulness behind his water glass. “Would you like me to raise the subject?” 

Scorpius hesitated. “Not… yet. I think I’d like to talk to him about coming to the hospital first.”

His dad nodded in understanding and took a pointed sip of his water. “And how is the house search going?” 

“It’s moving quicker now we have our architect to help us look for a suitable place. Although she keeps not so subtly suggesting we build something from scratch.”

“You still could,” Draco said. 

Scorpius chuckled. “We can only just afford this development, Dad. No, we’ll find the right place soon enough, there’s no rush.”

“Well,” his dad said with a smile, “moving now is a good idea. Merlin knows babies take up far more space than you think they’re going to.” 

* * *

Every Sunday, the Potters got together to have dinner. Most weeks, Harry and Ginny hosted (and Lily was in charge of some elaborate dessert) but sometimes Scorpius and Albus had everyone squeeze in at their flat, occasionally Teddy and Vic hosted (although Scorpius knew they preferred to take the girls to spend time with their family in a house where they _couldn’t_ get every single one of their toys out) and once or twice, James had them all at his self-described bachelor pad. 

This week, Scorpius found himself perched on a miniature chair opposite Lily, both of them enjoying the delights of _Pippa and Clementine’s Special Magic Cafe._ He clinked a tiny, empty teacup with Lily’s matching one and took a large, imaginary sip.

“Mmmm.” Scorpius smacked his lips appreciatively. “Delicious tea, compliments to the chef.”

Clementine was watching him carefully, a tiny apron patterned with rainbows covering her dress. She stuck her hands on her hips.

“It’s not _tea._ It’s bubble water.” 

“Yes, very yummy bubble water. Please can I have a refill, waitress?” He handed her the cup while Lily giggled. 

Clementine rushed off with the teacup and went and gave it to Albus who was on the sofa beside his dad. Scorpius laughed and went back to his conversation with Lily.

“So you think you’ve found somewhere?” 

“Maybe! It’s within my price range, it needs quite a bit of work doing to it but I can really make it my own that way.” She smiled slyly. “Same as you and Al with your new house.” 

Scorpius ignored her. “Where is the place?” 

Lily let him ignore her. “Oh, Scorp, you’re going to love it! It’s this old barn, all wooden beams and high ceilings and there’s space to build a mezzanine type half second floor into it. It’s in the middle of a huge, secluded field, it used to be part of a farm I think. But it’s practically miles out, very easy to muggleproof.” 

“It sounds perfect,” Scorpius agreed.

“It is.” Lily’s eyes were shining. “I can have outdoor classes and maybe even plant a ring of trees and build up a bit of woodland and then have a studio inside for hot yoga. The space is _massive_.” Her face fell a bit. “I’ll probably need to secure some investors, to get it off the ground, you know?” 

“Well you’ll have no trouble with that,” Scorpius assured her, shifting on the increasingly uncomfortable tiny chair he was still sitting on. “It’s a wonderful plan and you’re adequately charming.” 

Lily grinned and lightly kicked him under the table. “Who are you calling _adequate?”_

“Have you settled on a name or anything yet?”

Lily shook her head. “I have too many ideas, I can’t pick just one. I’m hoping having a space to start working on will help inspire me, or maybe our Hawaii trip will to be honest.”

Before he could reply, Pippa appeared and thrust some parchment into Scorpius’ hand, adorned with sparkly, purple scribbles.

“Here is your bill, sir,” she said excitedly. 

“Excuse me, Miss, but that man over there seems to have stolen my drink.” Scorpius took on an overly concerned expression and pointed at Albus, who had the small teacup in his hand. “Maybe he can cover the bill.”

Pippa giggled and took the parchment back, hurrying over to Albus and reprimanding him for stealing Scorpius’ drink. Albus apologised profusely and handed the plastic teacup back. 

“Tell that man he can order whatever he wants on me, as an apology.” Albus caught Scorpius’ eye and winked. 

“The cafe is closed now!” Clementine announced grandly, pulling her apron off. 

With a sense of relief for his knees, Scorpius removed himself from the absurdly small chair to go and join his husband on the much more comfortable, adult-sized sofa. 

“Maybe next time,” Albus said with a shrug, pressing a quick kiss to Scorpius’ lips as he sat down. 

“I’m going on the swing!” 

Clementine went dashing off to the garden, Pippa following still in her apron. 

“Look, Albus, it’s your potion.” Victoire, who was flicking through a magazine looking for an article, folded the page back and held it up. 

It was an advert for Fleamont’s vegan Invigoration potion, a whole page photograph of Langley Lernbacher with Pepper Imp riding on her shoulder as she drank the potion. 

“Those photos came out so well, Hugo did such a good job,” Lily commented, craning her neck to see the magazine from where she was still sitting on the tiny chair. 

“Langley looks very pretty,” Ginny said, looking immediately at James. 

He stared her down. “Yes. She does.”

“Are we ever going to properly meet her?” Ginny smoothed James’ hair fondly into place. 

“What do you mean _properly_?” James asked suspiciously, ruffling his hair into a mess again. “You’ve met her.”

“You know what I mean. Can you invite her to dinner or something?” 

James pulled a face. “She’s not my _girlfriend_ , Mum.” 

“So that means she doesn’t eat dinner?” Harry put in, joining the conversation. “Your mum’s right, you’ve been dating this girl for a while now.” 

“We’re not really dating,” James said, not making eye contact with his dad. 

Scorpius noticed that Albus was watching his brother with an exasperated expression and he rolled his eyes at that. He famously had no time for James and his approach to dating, or not-dating as apparently the case was.

“Still, I just think it would be nice if you-”

“Al, what’s the latest with that arsehole in America who stole this potion?” James said loudly, gesturing to the magazine.

“What?” Harry said sharply, looking between his two sons in concern.

Albus glared at James and turned to his father with a sigh. “It’s nothing, Dad. StarBrews have released their own fireseed Invigoration potion over in the States, that’s all.”

“Well,” Scorpius started with a light shrug, “it’s not really nothing. The Invigoration potion is identical to Albus’ and is most definitely a direct copy.”

“I’ll get more drinks,” James said, standing up to leave the living room and looking vaguely pleased with himself for such a successful subject change; nobody was focused on his relationship with Langley anymore after that bombshell.

Albus watched him leave and turned helplessly to his father, who looked furious. Scorpius sort of wanted to gather his husband up and Floo him home and away from this conversation. 

“They’ve done it _again_?” Harry placed his glass down, looking like he was afraid of gripping it too tightly. Ginny placed a hand on his knee. 

“Those fuckers.” Lily shook her head in disapproval. 

“ _Lily_ ,” her mum chastised her for swearing but it sounded more habitual than anything; her own expression was fairly similar to her daughter’s. “Al, sweetie, that doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Albus said sharply. “There’s nothing I can do but let them get on with it.”

Albus’ mum took a sharp intake of breath. “Couldn’t Rose-”

“I’ve spoken to Rose already. I don’t have an American potioneering licence so I don’t have a case. They’re not technically stealing any business from me by selling it there, I’d be laughed out of the Wizengamot.”

“But they’re stealing your _intellectual property_!” Lily exclaimed. 

Scorpius was in agreement with her, but he also knew that Albus had made up his mind about the situation and his family urging him to take action would have little effect.

“No, they aren’t,” Albus said abruptly. “They already had the idea registered when I asked Harrington for the US patent. I’m just not as original as I thought I was.”

There was a tense silence following his words. 

“Hmm, something doesn’t seem right about this,” Albus’ mum said shrewdly. “I’m sorry, darling.” She scooted across the sofa to give him a hug and Albus melted into her. 

“It’s fine, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Albus said, very much sounding like he didn’t want to discuss it any longer. 

Lily was muttering mutinously to herself and Harry excused himself from the room, saying something vague about needing to check on the potatoes. But just as he reached the door, a silvery otter patronus materialised in the middle of the room.

“Is that Hermione?” Ginny said, sitting up a bit straighter. 

“It’s an official ministry message, look,” Lily said, pointing to the Ministry of Magic logo that had materialised beside the otter. “Everyone’s getting this.”

“James!” Harry called as he was closest to the doorway. “Come in here a moment.”

“I’ll get Teddy.” Victoire got up to go out into the garden.

Scorpius felt a distinct sinking feeling as he thought about what the official message would most likely be. Albus gave him a questioning look and Scorpius just shook his head and took Albus’ hand. 

When everyone was back in the room, Harry nodded at the otter to deliver the message. 

“Good evening, everybody,” it said in Hermione’s voice. “It is with grave concern that I must inform you that, this afternoon, the Ministry took the decision to recategorise the current epidemic sweeping our country. Due to a rise in cases and the contagious nature of Black Cat Flu, we are raising the alert level. It is important that everyone complies with the following restrictions.” 

As the otter spoke, the words were forming on what looked like a large piece of parchment to its side. 

“Children who do not have wands should not mix with each other at all, the exception being only for children who live in the same household. With Hogwarts now closed, older children who do have wands must not use any magic around each other. Everyone must clean their wands frequently and use a wand cover at all times. Avoid using magic around children or anyone with a compromised magical system.”

Everyone in the room was exchanging fearful looks. This was the first time the guidelines had referred not only to children. 

“For the foreseeable future, we are asking the wizarding population not to travel outside of the country, especially with children. As grave as things are, we are also aware that we have the resources and infrastructure to overcome this. Other wizarding populations are not as lucky and we cannot risk spreading the infection too far. We hope to be able to relax this rule as we get this disease further under control but in the meantime, we appreciate your cooperation.”

That was the part Scorpius had very much thought was coming. 

“What about Hawaii?” Lily said morosely as the otter dematerialised and the written transcript of the address folded itself up into a pamphlet on the coffee table. 

“I… don’t think we can go anymore,” Harry said quietly. 

* * *

“Uncle Albus!” Pippa went barrelling into him with enough force for Albus to let out a grunt of discomfort as she buried her face into his torso quite emphatically. 

He gently rearranged her limbs where they were wrapped around his legs and knelt down in front of her, holding her hands. “Hi, Pip.”

Scorpius smiled at the sweet hug Pippa gave Albus, her small arms curled tightly around his shoulders. She didn’t let go, even when Albus went to release her, so instead he picked her up and sat her on his hip. 

“Hi, Scorpy,” she said, her head leaning against Albus’ and her thumb heading for her mouth. She stuck it in and snuggled up to Albus, looking as content as ever.

Albus glanced down at her then caught Scorpius’ eye with a little smile; he and Pippa were rather close, it always warmed Scorpius’ heart to see their special connection. 

“Where’s Clementine?” he asked curiously, noting the absence of Pippa’s twin. 

“She needed to take space,” Pippa explained, removing her thumb from her mouth to do so. 

“Ah,” Scorpius said in understanding. “Yes, that’s important to do.”

Pippa nodded sincerely. “Grown ups gots to take space sometimes too because they’re sad we can’t go on holiday because lots of children are poorly with the black cat Floo.” She spoke very solemnly, over pronouncing the words _black cat._

“That’s right, Pippa,” Albus said, patting her on the back as she replaced her thumb. 

“Hi,” Teddy said, appearing in the hallway, fastening his shirt cuff buttons as he spoke. 

“Is Clementine okay?” 

“Clem is…” Teddy glanced upwards and grimaced. “She’s having a bit of a difficult day. She’ll come down when she’s ready, I’ve said goodbye to her already, Vic’s up there now.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Just some big feelings going on. Pippa drew a picture with this gel pen Clementine insisted was hers and it all sort of escalated, she had a magic outburst and set fire to Pippa’s picture, Pippa cried. The usual.” Teddy sighed deeply. 

“Goodness,” Scorpius said, for lack of anything better.

“This was hours ago, she’s calmed down now and Pippa’s over it.” Teddy nodded to where Pippa was leading Albus by the hand to the playroom, a huge grin on her face. “Al being here helps.”

“She really does love him.”

“I don’t know if they’ve ever talked about it, but I saw the Potter boys grow up and I get the feeling Albus knows exactly how Pippa feels sometimes. And I think Pippa can pick up on that.”

Scorpius hummed gently to himself, considering Teddy’s words, thinking he was probably right. “Imagine if Albus and James were twins,” he mused, grinning to himself.

Teddy laughed. “I think that would have actually finished Harry off.”

He was putting his coat on when Victoire appeared at the top of the stairs with Clementine in tow, holding her hand and looking a bit sulky all the way down. 

“Look, darling. Scorpy’s here.” 

Clementine let go of her mother’s hand and silently reached for Scorpius’ instead. 

He gave her a big, encouraging smile. “It’s lovely to see you, Clementine!” 

A small smile appeared on Clementine’s face and she looked up at him. “Hello, Scorpy.” 

Victoire was frowning at her daughter in concern. “Maybe we shouldn’t go,” she mouthed to Teddy but Scorpius could lip read well enough. 

“We’ll be fine!” Scorpius said quickly in his most assuring voice. “We’ll have fun, won’t we, Clemmie?” 

“Is Uncle Al here as well?” she asked.

“Yes, he’s in the playroom with Pippa. Why don’t we go and see what they’re up to?”

She nodded happily at the suggestion and started to pull him away. 

“If you need us to come back, just send a patronus,” Teddy said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Seriously, Scorpius. Any problems, we’ll come back,” Victoire added.

“We’ll be absolutely fine, but noted. Have a good time, you two.”

Clementine was insistently pulling him away and she gave her parents a vague and disinterested wave goodbye. 

“Bye, girls!” Teddy called out to both of them and with that they were both out the front door. 

“Come _on,_ Scorpy,” Clementine insisted, pulling him by the hand towards the playroom. 

Inside the playroom, Albus was sat cross legged next to Pippa, each of them with a precarious tower of bricks balanced in front of them. 

“Ooh, towers!” Scorpius said enthusiastically, turning to Clementine to engage her too. 

Clementine scowled and pointedly smoothed her hand down her suddenly very long, very _dark_ hair. Scorpius had never seen her morph her hair that colour before, unless it was unintentional. 

Pippa was watching her sister too with wide eyes as she felt her own hair: a dark blonde, several inches past her shoulders. It was the same hairstyle Scorpius was used to seeing Clementine with, the one she’d had up until that very second, the way she usually chose to morph herself so as to match her sister.

Scorpius shared a confused look with Albus, who shrugged. 

“Your hair looks pretty,” Albus offered uncertainly. 

Clementine batted her eyelashes and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Thank you, Uncle Al!” 

“Clemmie!” Pippa cried accusingly, and without warning, her eyes filled with tears and she ran from the room. 

Albus untangled his crossed legs and pulled himself up. “I’ll go,” he said quietly to Scorpius. 

Clementine was adding to Albus’ tower without saying anything. Scorpius watched for a second then sighed and sat down beside her, helping to add onto the tower, making it more of a structure. 

“Shall we turn it into a castle?” he offered.

Clementine beamed and nodded, delving into the toy box and coming out with a brick shaped like an archway. “This can be the door!” 

They built together and Scorpius watched Clementine’s dark hair slowly fade to the same shade as Pippa’s again. 

“Do you like to change your hair colour now you’re five, Clem?” Scorpius asked her with feigned innocence. 

“And also a bit when I was four,” Clementine said with an emphatic nod. “I can make it any colour, watch!”

She screwed up her face and concentrated hard until her hair turned the same platinum blonde as Scorpius’ own. 

“Now we match!” Scorpus said brightly. “Did you know my hair used to be pink?” 

Clementine was still for a second then shook her head. “Pink is a bit hard. Daddy said I need to be more bigger before I can do all the colours, even the ones I can’t see.”

“Oh, I get it. So is it easier to do the same hair colour as someone in the room so you can copy?” 

She nodded. 

“Because, usually, you have the same hair as Pippa, don’t you?” he asked gently. 

Clementine didn’t say anything in response to that, just silently continued building the castle, and Scorpius didn’t want to push it so he joined her. 

“Pippa gets sad when I don’t have the same hair as her,” Clementine said quietly after a second.

“I see,” Scorpius said like this was news. “Is that why she’s sad now?” 

“Yes. But she’s just little sad, not big sad.”

“What about you? Are you little sad like Pippa?” 

“I’m _not_ like Pippa!” Clementine said insistently, folding her arms. “I’m like Clementine.” 

_Ah,_ Scorpius thought to himself. 

“We’re going to play in the garden,” Albus said quietly from the doorway, Pippa hovering behind him expectantly. “Do you want to join us?” 

“No thanks,” Clementine said casually, focused on her castle. 

Scorpius exchanged a perplexed look with Albus at Clementine’s uncharacteristic behaviour. _What should we do?_ Albus mouthed. 

“How about we come out when the castle is finished?” Scorpius suggested jovially. 

“Maybe.” Clementine shrugged. 

Albus sighed and performed a quick sad face to show how he was feeling. “Alright, well we’ll see you out there, Clementine!” 

As it turned out, Clementine didn’t want to go outside and play in the garden with her sister when the castle was finished or for the rest of the evening. Pippa’s delighted squeals echoed through the open window as Albus pushed her on the swing but she continued to say she wanted to stay inside with Scorpius. It was probably a bit ridiculous, but Scorpius was disappointed to not be spending more of the evening with his husband and the twins together; babysitting as the two of them was especially exciting with their imminent baby plans. 

Scorpius and Clementine were making pictures with stamps and ink when the sun was starting to set. Clementine concentrated hard on pressing a stamp to her page then looked up with a grin.

“Me and Pippa are having fancy dress costumes for that party,” she said happily.

“Ginny’s birthday party?” Scorpius questioned but she didn’t react. “What are your costumes like?”

“So special!” Clementine said happily. “Like a dancer lady!” 

“A dancer lady? Wow,” he said with enthusiasm. 

“Are you dressing up in a costume as well, Scorpy?” 

Scorpius nodded. “Yes, I’ve got my costume all ready. Have you ever heard of D-”

“And Uncle Al? Is him dressing up?” 

“Is he dressing up? Uncle Al doesn’t much like dressing up but yes, I’ve managed to convince him to choose a costume.” 

Clementine’s eyes widened at the concept of someone not much liking dressing up and she mumbled something about being a _dancer lady._

Albus and Pippa came back inside when it was starting to get dark. Pippa hurried off to choose some pyjamas and Albus came over to the small art table Scorpius was crammed behind. 

“Ah, my lovely husband, I made you a card.” Scorpius presented his stamp art to Albus with a flourish. He’d favoured stamps from the woodland set so a hedgehog and a woodpecker and various other creatures frolicked around the carefully stamped lettering which read _I love you Albus._

“Aw, you’re such a talented artist!” Albus swooped in to give him a kiss. “And look at yours, Clem, wow!”

Clementine had very carefully lined up all her mermaid stamps in a strategic order and printed them with a special, glitter-filled magical ink that shimmered and sparkled on the page so they looked as if they were swimming through water. 

“I did rainbow mermaids.” She stared at the page hard and crinkled her nose and her hair turned a pale blue shade, not that dissimilar to Teddy’s. “Did I do it?” Clementine inspected a handful of her hair and sighed glumly. “Oh, I wanted sparkly rainbows.”

“One day, Clem!” Scorpius said encouragingly. 

“I gotsed pyjamas!” Pippa came running over with a handful of pyjamas. She stopped at the art table. “ _Wow,_ Clementine, your mermaids are _beautiful!”_

Clementine considered the mermaid art. “You can have it, Pippa. They can be your mermaids.”

Pippa’s eyes widened. “Thank you!” She threw her arms around Clementine in a hug. 

Despite this apparent reconciliation, Clementine insisted on them each having different stories for bedtime. They’d briefly conferred while the girls brushed their teeth and decided they would definitely change their minds once the story started. But as Scorpius curled up with Clementine in her bed and quietly read _Nancy Niffler’s Tea Party_ , Albus lay with Pippa to read _Big Cauldron, Little Cauldron,_ and they each got to the end of their respective stories without anyone changing their mind, all the while exchanging concerned glances. 

With the stories finished, they both said goodnight to the girls and tiptoed from the room, closing the door softly so it was open just a crack.

“Well that was… different,” Scorpius began, barely speaking above a whisper when they were back downstairs. “I think Clementine is feeling a bit, I don’t know, grouped together? I know Teddy’s worried they’re both scared about BCF.” 

“Pippa said something,” Albus told him, leaning against the kitchen counter. “When I was talking to her earlier.”

Scorpius gave him a questioning look.

“She said _Mummy and Daddy are sad all the time_.”

“Teddy and Vic? Sad all the time?” 

“That’s what she said, and you know what Pippa’s like, she’s such an empath.”

“Remember that time we babysat the same day we’d sent out our wedding invitations and she kept saying _happy face like Scorpy?”_

“Exactly.”

“I wonder what’s the matter with Teddy and Vic,” Scorpius mused.

Albus suddenly looked shifty. “Er, I might have an idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m not _proud_ of this, but last time I was at Teddy’s shop, I sort of accidentally saw something.” He straightened his shoulders. “A letter, from The Ivy, containing test results for Teddy.”

“Test results?” Scorpius bit his lip in both thought and concern. “What’s he having tested?”

“I don’t know,” Albus shrugged. “I didn’t read the letter. I shouldn’t have even seen it in the first place.”

“Why’s he going to The Ivy, though?” Scorpius allowed his thoughts to spill out. 

Albus looked uncomfortable. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“ _Test results?”_ Scorpius mused. “That could be anything if Pippa thinks they’re _sad all the time.”_

“Yeah,” Albus said uncertainly. “They’ll tell us if there’s anything they want us to know, though.”

“I suppose,” Scorpius said sadly. 

A light tapping on the window interrupted the moment and Albus crossed the kitchen to let in the owl, which Scorpius recognised quickly to be Lily’s. The owl deposited two envelopes on the kitchen counter then made herself at home on the perch at the far side of the room. Albus picked one of the envelopes up.

“This one’s for us,” he said in slight confusion, turning it over.

“Why’s Lily writing to us here?” 

Albus shrugged and eased the letter out. He read it silently for a second and grinned, passing it across to Scorpius. He took it curiously. 

_Aloha! The Potter-Malfoy-Lupin holiday is a GO!_

_Where: Falmouth, South Cornwall (geographically the closest we can get to Hawaii without breaking the law)_

_When: exact same dates we were going to Hawaii anyway_

_What: we can’t go to Hawaii so we bring Hawaii to us!_

“Oh!” Scorpius said, looking up at Albus with a smile. He’d felt somewhat glum since the holiday was cancelled even though he understood it was for the best. Lily had suggested they still try and do something but Scorpius had assumed it wouldn’t actually amount to anything much.

“Look at this.” Albus was holding up some photos, showing a stunning beach, a cobblestone street lined with colourful buildings, a large white house on a clifftop. 

Scorpius looked at each one individually, a sense of holiday excitement filling him again as he imagined walking hand in hand with Albus across the shores in the photos. 

“Oh and this,” Albus added with a laugh, another piece of parchment in his hand. He began to read from it. “ _I’ve planned lots of fun stuff for us to do, see the list below.”_

“Well what’s on the list below?” 

Albus ran his finger down the list and grinned. “One of the events is called _Lily’s Luau._ Enough said.” He passed the list to Scorpius.

“Wow, this is very… detailed.”

“She’s taking this extremely seriously isn’t she,” Albus said, sounding bemused.

The distinct sound of footsteps from the girls’ bedroom echoed above them and Albus closed his eyes, sighing.

“It’s Lily and she’s been given an _event_ to organise,” Scorpius said with a chuckle. “It sounds like it’ll be a lot of fun. There’s still a beach.”

“And you get to rest,” Albus said pointedly, leading the way upstairs to check on the twins.

“So do _you._ ” Scorpius followed him up the stairs. 

They tiptoed across the landing and Albus got to the twins’ room first, where he peered inside.

From the open doorway, Albus quietly beckoned Scorpius over to join him.

“Look,” he whispered, pointing into the room.

Scorpius followed his gaze, to Pippa’s bed, in which Clementine was also curled up, her hair in its natural state while she slept. It resembled her sister’s once more.

Albus sighed softly and met Scorpius’ eye; they shared a smile and Albus carefully shut the bedroom door, taking hold of Scorpius’ hand. “Best friends again,” he whispered. 

* * *

The room was packed with people, most of whom Scorpius did not know, and he’d found himself somewhat on the peripheries near the bar with Albus, who was a bit tense already. The theme was clear in the party guests’ costumes and while most people had simply gone for typically 80s style robes (two-tone colours and flared collars and slimline hats incorporated into overly large hairstyles) there were a lot of hilariously creative costumes on display too. 

Several people had, like Albus, donned the specific blend of muggle denim and bits of old style Hogwarts uniform to create the iconic look of the Common Room Crowd, a popular comic book series originating in the 80s. Scorpius had already spotted two people in the green and black stripes of the Hobgoblins’ famous _Wizzo!_ record cover and quickly realised he was far from the only person in the room who’d come as David Bowie. 

“Hey, guys!” 

It was James, who came straight over to them, beaming expectantly. Scorpius took in his costume, trying to work out what he was looking at; James was wearing a sharply fitted black blazer over a crisp, white shirt with a red bow-tie at his throat, his hair was styled so that two random sections stuck up on each side and his fringe fell artfully into his face - in his hand was an old-fashioned broomstick. 

“Nice costume, Scorp!” James hugged him briefly. “Al, did you forget yours?”

Albus rolled his eyes and pointed at the Common Room Crew badge he’d attached to his collar. “Costume,” he said sulkily. 

Scorpius smiled. “James, I’m not entirely sure who you’re supposed to be, but you look great.”

James looked offended. “I’m Lance Leviosa! With the Shooting Star Two?” He picked the broomstick up and held it across his body with both hands in an odd sort of pose, lunging deeply and grinning so widely it was disconcerting.

“Is he a Quidditch player?” Albus asked. 

James sighed and straightened up. “He’s a model, he did that iconic nude magazine cover with the Shooting Star Two.” He took on a sulky expression. “Dad said I couldn’t, in his words, _parade round my mother’s birthday party in just my pants,_ so I combined it with his muggle suit thing.”

“Muggle suit thing?” Albus frowned.

Scorpius stared at him, baffled. “This reference seems to have gone right over our heads, James, sorry.” 

James shook his head in contempt.“Wasted on you, truly wasted…”

“James, did you really come as _Lance_ _Leviosa?”_ a disparaging voice made Scorpius turn around and it turned out to be Rose, her whole family in her wake.

“Hello!” Scorpius said politely. “Wow, you guys look great! The Hobgoblins, yes?”

The Granger-Weasleys were all wearing the same jade green robes with vertical, black stripes. Hugo immediately adopted the pose the band famously did on the record cover, hand beneath his chin and one leg forward. 

He looked around at the rest of his famously in bewilderment, still in the pose. “Why is no one else doing this?” He relaxed and shook his head in disappointment. 

“Oh, sorry, Hugo.” His dad made a brief attempt at the pose too. “Scorpius!” Ron was looking at him in delight. “Finally the Bowie/Hobgoblin collab I’ve always dreamed of.”

“Always dreamed of?” Rose frowned at him. “The Hobgoblins broke up when you were three, Dad.” 

Ron grinned. “That’s how long I’ve been waiting! I’m going to request _The Sorcerer’s Sidekick_ from the DJ immediately.” He made a big show of looking around with a finger held aloft and locating the DJ before snapping his fingers excitedly and hurrying off. 

“You make a brilliant Bowie, Scorpius,” Hermione told him kindly.

Scorpius felt himself blush. “There are at least five others in here, I’m sure.” 

“At least you wore a costume,” Rose said, raising an eyebrow at Albus. 

“This _is_ a costume, Rose,” he said in annoyance. “Look, the badge.”

Rose gave the badge a customary glance and shrugged. “Very good,” she said as the Granger-Weasleys moved on. 

Scorpius was trying his best to enjoy the party but he felt agitated and on-edge. He wasn’t working at all that weekend but he was technically ‘on call’ which did absolutely nothing for his anxiety. Scorpius would rather be at the hospital, knowing exactly what was going on while he was working, than trying desperately to enjoy his weekend as normal, knowing he could be needed at any moment. 

He squeezed his thumb hard and Albus noticed.

“You can take your second dose now,” he whispered, pressing the vial into his hand. 

Scorpius nodded and surreptitiously tipped it into the last few mouthfuls of his orange juice, draining his glass. 

The Draught of Peace that Albus made did a lot to bring Scorpius’ anxiety down, he felt as if the familiarity of his husband’s magic made it work even more effectively for him personally, although that could have been psychological. Still, there was a lot to be said for knowing Albus had woken up especially early to brew this for him, as it had to be taken fresh on the day of preparation. Most people would have to visit an apothecary and pay a lot of money for a freshly made day’s dose of the draught.

“I am supremely lucky to have a live-in potioneer, aren’t I,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Albus’ cheek. 

Albus grinned. “It’s really nice of you to keep letting me live there.”

“I think it was somewhere in our wedding vows, was it not?”

Albus smirked and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I can’t get over how good that make-up looks on you.” 

Scorpius felt himself blush, having not yet fully decided if he was self conscious about his costume or not. He needn’t have been - it was far from the most outlandish in the room - but he put it down to his general, nervous disposition.

“It’s a bit uneven,” he said, deflecting.

“No, it’s perfect. You’re the most attractive Bowie in this room.”

Scorpius took his teasing nudge. “In my defence, I’ve had this costume for years. I didn’t think this many other people would have the same idea.”

Albus recoiled slightly. “You didn’t think an 80s fancy dress party would have any other Bowies when he’s the most iconic wizarding singer of the decade?” 

“And muggle,” Scorpius put in with a nod. “He was very popular with muggles too.” 

“Well,” Albus dropped his voice, “you look the most like him.”

Scorpius adjusted his longer hair where it swooped away from his eyes. “Of course I planned this all very carefully. I’ve actually had plenty of time to get a haircut these past few months and chose not to so my David Bowie costume would be the most accurate at your mum’s birthday party, it definitely isn’t a fortunate coincidence stemming from my complete lack of any free time.” 

Albus chuckled at his dry tone. “I think your hair looks nice.”

As Scorpius felt the Draught of Peace begin to kick in, Albus moved closer to him. 

“You know,” he said in a low voice, “I was sort of dreading this a little bit, big family party and all that. But it’s surprisingly consisting of just getting to spend some time with you.” 

Scorpius laughed. “This is the closest thing we’ve had to a date night in months.”

“And I’m dressed as Richie Victory.” Albus snorted, gesturing down at his denim shirt and fingerless gloves. 

“Only because it meant you could just wear your own clothes,” Scorpius teased, straightening the red headband holding Albus’ hair back. “And you already had the beard. Actually, I think there’s at least one of all of the Common Room Crowd in this room somewhere. You’ll have to find a Ginger Jewelweed and take a photo.”

Albus laughed. “Scor, do you know what happens between Richie and Ginger in the original comics?” 

Scorpius mumbled something about not having read them in that much detail. But before Albus could divulge this information, he felt a familiar buzzing sensation against his chest. He sighed heavily and removed his St Mungo’s badge, tucked into his upper pocket while he was on call. 

“Oh no,” Albus said warily. 

Scorpius glanced at the badge and nodded resolutely. “It’s Harmony.” He clipped the badge onto the front of his powder-blue Bowie costume and quickly pressed a kiss to Albus’ cheek. “I’ll try and get back before the party’s over, love. Can you apologise to your mum for me? I’ll probably miss surprising her.”

Albus looked as disappointed as Scorpius felt. Merlin, he loved Albus, and his green eyes, big and full of understanding, as he nodded and held Scorpius close to him for just a second, mumbling that he loved him and would see him later. 

Scorpius sadly left the party room into the quiet space outside and apparated away as quickly as he could, the colourful decorations and upbeat music of the party instantly replaced with the white walls of his hospital office. There wasn’t time to change, Scorpius needed to thoroughly clean his wand and get to Harmony as soon as he could. 

He didn’t even think about the fact he was still dressed as David Bowie while he administered intensive charm therapy to the baby, absurdly blinking through his long fringe and lightning bolt eye makeup to cast charm after charm. The familiar aches took hold of his body as he stabilised Harmony’s magical system and made sure it was safe for her to go to sleep. 

None of the Healer nurses commented on his choice of outfit until everything had calmed down.

“You look nice,” someone said.

Scorpius could just about muster a tiny smirk. “Sorry, I came straight from a fancy dress party.”

“That is so incredibly 2031, Scorpius.” 

He forced a laugh in response and mumbled something about paperwork, leaving Harmony’s room and making a beeline straight to his boss’ office. He was so overcome with emotion that he didn’t even wait properly after knocking on her door, pushing it open erratically and only realising what he’d done once the door was open.

The office was completely empty, which Scorpius only stopped to think about at that moment. Of course Ruth wasn’t tucked away in her office, she was in surgery and that was why they’d been left with no choice but to call him. 

He closed the door and took just a second to take some deep, calming breaths, trying to focus on the sensation of Albus’ Draught of Peace, still flowing through his veins, and silently praying Ruth didn’t choose that exact moment to come back and find him alone in her office staring at the floor. 

She didn’t, he left alone, changed into proper Healer robes, scrubbed off his makeup, fixed his hair back into place. He went to find Harmony’s parents, spoke to them in grave tones to explain it would still be a while longer before their daughter could come home, agreed it would be wonderful if she could be home by her first birthday but sadly he wasn’t sure, focused as much as he could on the chart showing the improvement in Harmony’s magical system, however gradual. 

This time he remembered to wait after knocking and Ruth had returned because she called him in.

“Scorpius?” Ruth looked up in surprise. “How’s Harmony?”

“Alright for now.” He wrung his hands together. “She’s worrying me though.”

“Is she still responding to the potion?”

Scorpius nodded. “Yes. Just much slower than expected, given everything else that’s going on in her little body I suppose. She’s been with us nine weeks now but is looking more like a child who’s been taking the potion for two weeks.”

“So, another five weeks do you think?” 

“I hope it’ll be less,” Scorpius said helplessly. 

“Poor thing. How’s her mum?”

“Terrified,” Scorpius said shortly, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes, the weakness he couldn’t show Harmony’s mother threatening to spill over. 

Ruth sighed and patted his shoulder comfortingly. “You’re doing a brilliant job, Scorpius. Go home to your husband.”

Scorpius waved a hand over the pile of parchment on her desk; induction papers for the new BCF cases admitted to the quarantine ward that day alone. “I can help you file these first.”

Ruth gathered up the stack of papers. “That was a direct instruction. _Go home._ I’ll file these. _”_

“It’s okay, really, it’ll only take a minute and-”

“Scorpius,” she said sharply. 

Scorpius smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Ruth.” 

He got up to leave, his eye fixed on the pile of parchment. It was scarily large considering each one represented a new child inflicted with BCF. Scorpius stopped at the doorway and took a deep breath.

“I have holiday booked in the calendar for next week, we were supposed to go to Hawaii but obviously that’s off so you can cancel it.” Scorpius tried to sound sincere, which he did feel. 

Ruth looked up from the parchment and lowered her glasses to the end of her nose, fixing Scorpius with a hard stare. “Scorpius, if you don’t take that time off then I will personally fire you from this and any other St Mungo’s departments you may desire to ever work in.”

Scorpius swallowed nervously and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! let me know your thoughts? :)
> 
> massive shoutout to author roonilbwazlib for David Bowie Scorpius, who I borrowed for this chapter, the idea came from Sarah's fic: Oh you pretty thing! highly recommend <3
> 
> tumblr: littlerose13writes  
> instagram: littlerose13writes
> 
> see you next week! xx


	8. Chapter 7 - Sand Unicorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> playlist: [I Will Follow You Into the Dark (cover) - Something for No One](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TCTEoCXmBw)

Before Albus was even close enough to knock on the door, he could hear the sound of drums playing a consistent beat. One of the other flat doors opened and an irritated looking witch stuck her wand out into the corridor, flicking it towards Albus’ destination and silencing the drumming. She caught Albus’ eye and sighed pointedly.

“They’re always forgetting their silencing charms, those boys.” She shook her head and shut the door. 

Albus laughed quietly to himself and approached the flat he’d come to visit, knocking sharply on the door. 

After a minute of waiting, he knocked again, harder this time; presumably whoever was playing the drums inside was drowning him out. But he seemed to have broken through, because the door opened a second later, although it wasn’t who Albus had expected to be on the other side. 

“Albus? What are you doing here?” 

Albus blinked, confused why he was suddenly talking to his little sister. “You don’t live here.” 

Lily twisted her ponytail around her fingers and shrugged as the sound of drumming stopped. “Lucas is teaching me a recipe for the holiday.” 

“Who is it? Oh, Albus, you’re early.” Finley appeared behind Lily and adjusted his glasses. “Which is fine, come in.” 

Lily skipped off as Finley stepped back to let Albus in, closing the door behind him. He had a set of drumsticks in one hand.

“Nice drumming,” Albus commented with a bit of a smirk.

“Thanks,” Finley shrugged, tucking the sticks into his pocket. “I’m just practising. We have a gig coming up, at the Little Lep.”

He led Albus through to their kitchen, where he had expected to find Lily and Lucas cooking together. But neither of them were anywhere to be seen, nor was there any cooking equipment out. Finley’s other roommate was sitting at the breakfast bar, leant moodily over a magazine. 

“That’s Seb,” Finley nodded in his general direction then picked his voice up. “Seb, this is Albus.” 

Seb glanced up, pulled one earphone out and nodded, looking faintly bored. “Lily’s brother,” he said, in a husky sort of voice. 

“That’s me,” Albus deadpanned back. 

“He’s my boss,” Finley added with a grin, turning towards the fridge. “Want something to drink?”

Albus pulled a face. “Don’t call me that. And yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” 

“Beer?” Finley offered him a bottle of  _ Mooncalf _ . 

“Go on then,” Albus accepted it. 

“You are my boss, though.” Finley clinked his own bottle against Albus’. “You’re bossy enough in the workshop,” he added in a mumble.

“I heard that,” Albus grinned and looked around the kitchen: someone’s guitar was propped in the corner next to a large, and slightly unhealthy looking monstera plant, coasters which looked like they’d been taken from the Leaky Cauldron littered the breakfast bar and there was a calendar on the wall proudly displaying a photo of Langley Lernbacher posing on a beach. “Nice place.”

“Cheers, it works for the three of us and there’s space for my drum kit.”

“When’s your gig?” Albus said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I didn’t know you were in a band.” 

“Yeah,  _ Nargles From Mars _ .” Finley smirked.

Albus snorted. “Great name.”

“Thanks. I play drums, Seb’s lead guitar.” He nodded over at Seb. “We have a vocalist, Zack, and then Karl’s on bass.” 

Albus frowned. “Karl Jenkins?”

“Yeah, he came up with the name. Do you know him?” He was scanning his eyes over the fridge door, which was home to many leaflets and photos.

“From school, I suppose. We were in the same year.” Albus shrugged. 

“Well you should come, bring Scorpius.” Finley had removed a flyer from the fridge and he handed it to Albus. It was printed to look like a galaxy of stars and bright red lettering proudly announced  _ Nargles From Mars  _ playing at the Little Leprechaun on the eighteenth. 

“Aw, I’d love to but we’ll still be on holiday then. I’ll make it to the next one.”

“No worries, I forgot you’d be away. You play too, don’t you?” Finley asked.

“Oh, just a bit of guitar, for fun. I’ve been teaching Lorcan Scamander to play in the school holidays,” Albus admitted. 

“Well if you ever want to join us…” Finley shrugged. “It’s all a bit of fun, we all have other jobs and stuff.”

The faint sound of Lily singing was suddenly audible from one of the bedrooms. 

“Is my sister really here  _ learning a recipe?”  _ Albus asked disbelievingly. 

Seb snorted loudly but didn’t look up from his magazine. “If that’s what she told you.” 

Feeling he was both missing something and also perfectly aware of what was going on, Albus decided to leave it at that and he reached into his backpack for the files he’d brought with him. Finley put his beer down and looked attentive.

“Welcome to the painful world of potion copyright.” 

Finley pulled a face but looked eager to hear more. 

“Invigoration is selling well, we’ve even had a few international orders already.” Albus sighed. “Of course, none from the US.”

Finley muttered something that sounded very rude under his breath. “StarBrews’ version went on sale yesterday,” he said mutinously. “Did you see their marketing, though? It was total crap compared to yours. All based around some sad old wizard wanting to  _ keep on top of his paperwork.” _

“Riveting, wasn’t it?” Albus said in a deadpan voice, thinking of their own carefully crafted marketing campaign. 

“Yours would have done well over there,” Finley said with a sigh. 

“It’s fine, I’ve spoken to Rose and we have a plan.” He shrugged. “That’s partly what I came over to tell you about.” 

“A plan? Intriguing.” Finley folded his arms. 

“Yes, so that Fleamont’s potions can be copyrighted in the US without us having to go through Harrington every time and come up against all this crap.” 

“I had no idea that was an option but it sounds delightful,” Finley said.

“It’s an option if I get an American potioneering licence,” Albus said quickly.

Finley blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“It was Rose’s idea, to be honest I haven’t looked into it properly yet, but I suppose technically there’s nothing stopping anybody from paying to take the exam in any country they like.”

“That’s clever, get a licence, head off StarBrews before they can steal.”

Albus had of course told Finley about the whole long, sorry history he had with StarBrews and he’d been in the same school of thought as Albus’ family that he was the victim of theft of his intellectual property. Albus was still fairly exhausted by the whole thing. 

“We’ll see.” Albus shrugged and reached into his pocket. “Anyway, here’s the spare key so you can get into the workshop while we’re away. And thanks for agreeing to look after Pepper.”

“No problem, we have fun together. And you’re back on the twenty-second?”

“Oh! No, it’ll be the twenty-first. It was the twenty-second when it was Hawaii because of the time difference.”

“Ah, of course. Falmouth is very much in this same timezone.”

Albus laughed along with him as it occurred to him that he didn’t think he’d mentioned to Finley where in Cornwall they were going and that it must have been Scorpius who told him when he was at their flat for work. It was an oddly comforting thought. He took a sip of beer as another point came to him.

“You wouldn’t mind watering Scorpius’ plants too, would you? He doesn’t trust those automatic charms and I want him to be able to relax on this holiday.”

Finley chuckled and affirmed that he’d love to look after the plants. 

* * *

The next couple of days were a blur of extra hours in the workshop and packing both his and Scorpius’ holiday clothes while he was at the hospital setting everything straight so he could leave for two weeks. Albus was convinced that each time Scorpius came home, he’d insist he was too busy to come anymore, until Scorpius admitted that Ruth had threatened to fire him if he didn’t take the holiday. 

Now here they were at the London portkey office but Albus could tell his husband’s mind was very much still on work. The way his gaze lingered for just a second too long on a BCF safety poster on the wall, the tension in his jaw when a wizard in the waiting room sneezed. Albus hoped this break would give Scorpius a chance to get back to himself a bit.

“Merlin, Lil, we’re only going for two weeks.” Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of Lily’s as of yet unshrunk luggage; two suitcases and a backpack with a yoga mat sticking out of the top. 

“I need all of this stuff,” Lily shrugged. 

“Yeah, who needs  _ two  _ suitcases?” Albus said teasingly so only Scorpius could hear. 

His husband looked up from where he was leafing through the parchment portkey tickets and rolled his eyes at Albus. They’d already shrunk Scorpius’ two suitcases’ worth of luggage down before arriving at the portkey office. 

“As I’ve already explained, it’s good to have options.” Scorpius handed Albus a parchment ticket. “Here’s yours, and you need your wand out too so they can ID you.”

“Thanks, love.” Albus smiled and took the ticket, glancing down at the portkey information:  _ London: Paddington Portkey Office to Falmouth Town Station Portkey Office, Albus Potter-Malfoy. _

He still got a secret little thrill at anything which reminded him that he was a  _ Potter-Malfoy  _ now and he looked up to see that Scorpius had caught him grinning at his ticket, his eyebrow raised knowingly. Albus felt himself blush, unable to stop himself smirking at his husband.

“Enough eye-shagging, we’re in public,” James interrupted loudly; he was on top form that day, clearly excited about the holiday. 

Albus rolled his eyes and made a point of throwing Scorpius one more sweet smile before turning to his brother. “Don’t say  _ shagging _ in front of the twins,” he said lazily, lowering his voice strategically. 

“Eye-fraternising, eye-canoodling, eye-intercourse?” James rattled off in quick succession. 

“ _ Eye intercourse?”  _ Their mum interrupted and gave James a mum stare. “Can you behave yourself, James?”   


“Al started it!” James smirked and dashed off to get his suitcase. 

“Is he going to be like this for the whole trip?” Albus sighed. 

His mum patted him on the shoulder. “Probably.”

“Oh, Dad, there’s a mistake on your ticket,” Scorpius was saying as he tuned back into the conversation. 

Draco was frowning as Scorpius peered at the ticket. “What sort of mistake?”

Scorpius smirked. “Well, um, I think the person printing them got confused. Your ticket says,” he snorted, looking back at the ticket, “ _ Draco Potter-Malfoy.” _

Draco’s ears turned pink and Albus gave Scorpius a look which he hoped clearly communicated that James could not under any circumstances be told about this. 

“I’ll get it reprinted for you, Draco,” Albus said, quickly snatching the ticket from Scorpius’ hand before anyone could see. 

As they loaded up their luggage to be weighed and checked for any prohibited items, Teddy was reasoning with Clementine. “You can have it back when it’s been through the security scanner, but we aren’t allowed to take the portkey if you won’t let Daddy shrink it down.”

“Esmeralda doesn’t  _ like  _ to be shrinked down!” Clementine insisted, clutching her stuffed mermaid tightly to her chest. 

“Clemmie’s not being all so good,” Pippa said earnestly, slipping her hand into Albus’. “She’s scared for the portkey.” 

Albus looked down at her, as usual marvelling at how perceptive she was for such a young child. “What about you?” 

Pippa’s grip on his hand tightened. “I’m not scared.”

“You sure, Pip?” Albus prompted gently.

Pippa blinked up at him then beckoned him towards her. Albus obliged and knelt at her side, where she cupped her hands to his ear. 

“I’m a  _ little  _ bit scared,” she whispered. “We did a practice one and I didn’t like it, but Clemmie liked it even more less than I did!” 

“They do feel quite funny, portkeys. I can see why you feel a bit scared,” Albus said in a chatty voice. “But we’re all coming with you and it’s very safe.”

“Clemmie wants to hold Mummy  _ and  _ Daddy’s hands,” Pippa said with a sigh. “But then there’s no people’s hands for me to hold, so she’s cross.”

“Yes, that’s quite the pickle,” Albus said very seriously. “You both need a hand to hold.”

Pippa nodded emphatically and slipped away back to her parents who were up ahead in the queue they were all in. 

The process of getting through security to take a simple portkey felt a bit ridiculous. Albus could understand if they were going abroad but this portkey was only taking them two hundred miles away; they could apparate that distance if they didn’t have luggage and the twins to consider. Everyone’s suitcases and bags and other belongings were put through a scanning charm and their wands IDd and it was all extremely laborious. 

Scorpius was lifting his dad’s suitcase onto the platform for it to be scanned and Albus looked around to find he was somehow the last of their group to go through security. He sighed and hoisted his duffle bag onto the platform too. 

He trooped along as the queue moved, handing one of the wizards his wand to be checked and his ticket before waiting for his bag to be returned to him. 

“Excuse me, sir, is this your mermaid?” The wizard held up the glittering tail of Esmeralda and fixed Albus with a serious stare. 

Albus glanced around him, noticing that all the other adults had moved through to the other side. He supposed that meant that yes, for the purpose of the wizard’s question, it was his mermaid.

“Yes, that’s mine.” He held his hand out for the mermaid. 

The wizard seemed to recognise the object in his hand and he frowned. “This mermaid is your property, sir?” 

Albus didn’t blink. “Yes, I cuddle with it every night. Is there a problem?” 

The wizard gave him a funny look and handed Esmerelda the mermaid over. He stuffed her under his arm and hoisted his bag over to join everyone else having their tickets checked. 

“Is there any possibility any one of your party could be carrying any infectious diseases?” a witch with a clipboard said.

Scorpius cleared his throat. “We’ve all been checked for BCF and given the clear. I have the paperwork if you need to see it.” 

While Scorpius showed her the paperwork to confirm they’d all tested negative for BCF, Albus returned Esmerelda to Clementine, who seemed entirely unphased that she’d even been gone and was back to worrying about whose hand she was going to hold for the portkey. 

It was a ceramic plant pot, really quite a nice one. Albus could see Scorpius eying it up, perhaps wondering if they could keep it afterwards. The wide rim meant there was lots of space for everyone to hold onto.

Albus hooked a finger over the edge and they all waited for the timer on the wall to count down to zero. Then, with an almighty tug, Albus was pulled what felt like into the plant pot in a rush of movement and sound. 

As the portkey landed and Albus regained his balance, he blinked into the sunlight and took in their surroundings. They were in the middle of an empty field but a glimmer of the sea was visible in the distance at the end of what Albus assumed was a cliff drop. A small, snaking footpath started just beyond a gate and appeared to lead to a cottage of sorts, small and made of stone with a slate roof and rickety steps. The first thing which hit Albus was how much warmer it was than London. Immediately, he stripped off his hoodie and tied it around his waist.

“This is very picturesque,” James commented, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Albus felt like pointing out that James had a pair of sunglasses tucked into the front of his t-shirt, but instead he decided to see how long it took his brother to notice them himself.

“That must be the portkey house,” Scorpius said efficiently, pointing at the stone cottage. He picked up the plant pot, now lying forlorn on the grass and tucked it under his arm. 

“Is that house where we’re all going to live?” Pippa questioned, her large stuffed narwhal muffling her words somewhat. 

Albus’ dad smiled at her. “No, that’s where we need to give back the portkeys.”

“Oh.” Pippa looked up at him. “Where is our house?”

“Er…” Harry looked around vaguely. “It’s, well, it’s a short walk from here.” He looked like he was going to point in a certain direction but then thought better of it. 

“I’ve got a map!” Lily said confidently. “It’s about a ten minute walk from the portkey house.” 

They followed the footpath to the portkey house and Pippa and Clementine ran ahead in excitement. Scorpius reached over to lace his fingers with Albus’ and gave his hand a squeeze; the wind ruffled his husband’s hair slightly and Albus thought about how he couldn’t wait for Scorpius to lose some of the tension and stress he was carrying. With that, he slyly topped up the shrinking charm on his duffle bag, not wanting it to wear off on the walk and embarrass him by suddenly popping back to its full size. 

“Where’re you folks staying?” asked the wizard at the portkey house. 

“Seaview House?” Teddy said, looking to Lily to make sure he’d got the name right. 

The wizard frowned. “I don’t know it, must be a muggle one.” He shrugged and tossed the plant pot into a large barrel. “Have a lovely time.” 

Albus, along with every other adult in their group, turned eyes on Lily, who was grinning. 

“What?” she said innocently. 

“You didn’t tell us we were staying in a muggle house?” Albus said, knowing full well Lily knew exactly  _ what. _

“Well why does it make a difference? It’s not a hotel, we’ll be the only people there.”

“Ooh, will there be  _ electricity?” _ Scorpius said, looking immediately excited.

“That’s why.” James laughed.

“All the wizarding places were booked up so last minute, I thought it would be fun!” Lily told them, unphased. 

“There’s no reason for this to be a problem. We’re a group of qualified, capable witches and wizards,” Albus’ mum said with a shrug.

“And James is here too,” Teddy put in, throwing a grin in James’ direction. 

James clicked his tongue and pointed finger guns at them all, tossing his hair from his eyes and laughing. 

* * *

The key clicked in the lock and the door swung open, revealing a spacious, open hallway with a high ceiling and a curved staircase. Albus breathed in, noting that the house smelled clean and floral. It appeared to expand in almost every direction, there was a large vase of flowers in the hallway and even a bottle of champagne. 

Lily had produced a clipboard from somewhere and was reading from a list. “Okay, Teds and Vic, you have the upstairs rooms for you and the twins, everyone else is downstairs. There’s some spare keys here.” She was inspecting the hallway table next to the flowers and champagne, picking up another set of keys. “Oh, this is for if we’d brought a car, which to be honest the nice couple who own the house were a bit confused by. I told them we were getting the train and left it at that.” 

She pointed out where each bedroom was and everyone went to settle in and unpack, which Albus was thankful for. He’d half expected Lily to have organised some extravagant arrival activity for them all to do and he was much happier taking a moment with Scorpius to see their room and unpack a bit.

After a quick charm, Albus watched his suitcase grow to its full size again in the middle of the bedroom floor. He paused, took in a deep breath and looked around the room; sunlight streamed through the large window, casting beams over the impeccably made white bed cover. The furniture was all a light pine and a painting of a large mackerel adorned the wall behind the bed. Albus breathed in the clean, floral scent of the room and smiled to himself.

“This shower is huge!” Scorpius’ voice echoed from inside the en-suite bathroom and he appeared in the doorway with an excited expression, a pair of toothbrushes in one hand. “Bigger than the one we had on our honeymoon.”

“Is it, now?” Albus smirked, folding his arms. “Interesting.”

“And there’s a hot tub here too.” Scorpius winked and disappeared into the bathroom again. 

“Are you unpacking?” Albus called out. 

He followed his husband into the bathroom, where he was carefully laying out various toiletries in a neat row beside the sink. 

“Yes, clothes are next,” Scorpius said, distracted by the sun protection potion he’d just taken out. “I’m still worried this isn’t going to be enough.”

“I can always brew you some more,” Albus shrugged. “I brought a kit.”

Scorpius wandered back into the bedroom and threw open the wardrobe, muttering to himself and pointing at the various shelves. He pulled his wand out and started to carefully levitate clothes from the suitcase to the wardrobe; Albus could only see the back of his head, but he knew Scorpius would be doing his concentration face. Creeping up behind him, he wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist comfortably. Scorpius didn’t stop what he was doing, but he did rest a hand on Albus’ forearm with a little contented sigh. 

There was a loud knock followed immediately by the door banging open, revealing Lily on the other side. She’d already got changed into clothes for the beach, large sunglasses covered most of her face and she had a huge, inflatable unicorn tucked under one arm. 

“Less cuddling, you two. I can barely stand staying away from that gorgeous beach a second longer!” 

Albus didn’t let go of Scorpius and instead rested his head on his shoulder to look at Lily. “I didn’t realise we were on such a strict itinerary.” 

“Nice unicorn!” Scorpius laughed.

“Here, I got you something too.” Lily reached into the beach bag on her shoulder and threw something large and pink onto the bed. “We’re leaving in five minutes!” 

Scorpius immediately dashed over to see what it was, and he unfolded the material of the object uncertainly. “What is it?” 

“It’s Lily, it could be anything,” Albus shrugged, bending down to root in the suitcase for his and Scorpius’ swimming trunks. “Do you want your flip flops?” 

A sudden and very loud sucking sound caught Albus’ attention, and he looked up to see a delighted Scorpius with his wand pointed at what was now a large, inflatable rubber ring with the neck and head of a flamingo protruding from it. 

“Is she expecting you to use that?” Albus raised his eyebrows sceptically. 

“Why shouldn’t I use it?” Scorpius shrugged, stroking the flamingo’s beak. “And to answer your earlier question, yes please, I would like my flip flops.” He bent the flamingo’s beak downwards, laughing to himself when it pinged back into place. “It looks like an Eric.” 

“Help, I married a weirdo,” Albus muttered, brushing past Scorpius to get to the bathroom for sun protection potion. 

Scorpius just laughed. “I’ll get the beach bag,” he called merrily. 

Albus returned from the bathroom to find Scorpius with his wand out, trying to deflate the giant flamingo. It was slowly and somewhat sadly drooping down onto the bedspread, its beak starting to invert into its head.

“Wow, mood,” Albus said, nodding at the collapsed flamingo.

Scorpius laughed. “Me after a long shift.”

Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist and hugged him from behind. “Now you get to relax, love.”

Scorpius sighed and melted into him with a vague nod. 

“Three minutes!” Lily’s commanding voice echoed through the house. 

Albus closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “We’ll find some time to spend just the two of us on this holiday, won’t we?” 

Scorpius turned in his arms and quickly kissed him. “Of course we will. Lots of time.”

They both paused as they listened to Lily loudly singing the lyrics to a muggle song:  _ let’s go to the beach, each _ . Albus made a noise of doubtful disbelief. 

“We will!” Scorpius insisted. “We have that pottery painting day, that’s just our thing.”

“It was  _ supposed _ to be a gorgeous Hawaiian spa,” Albus grumbled, but he couldn’t help smirking as he reached out to tuck a wave of Scorpius’ hair behind his ear.

“No, I’m so excited for that! And to spend time with our families too.” 

“Very diplomatic,” Albus said with a laugh, even though he felt just the same way. 

“Time to gooooooo!” Lily called, whipping past their room on what looked like a full lap of the house. 

Scorpius kissed him again. “Don’t forget Eric.” 

* * *

“I like the beach, really I do, but I seem to have brought half of it home with me,” Albus complained, running his fingers through his hair and showering sand all over the sink. 

Scorpius snaked his arms around Albus’ waist from behind and kissed the back of his neck. “Mmm, yes, you taste all salty.” 

“At least I got in the sea,” Albus teased.

“I said I would tomorrow. I wanted to keep my dad company, he doesn’t like swimming,” Scorpius protested then he lowered his lips to Albus’ ear, whispering. “We could always go tonight, just the two of us.” 

“Am I misunderstanding or is my husband suggesting a moonlit skinny dip?” 

Scorpius smiled innocently and unwrapped himself from Albus. “Think about it. I’m going to check the post.”

Albus did more than  _ think about it  _ as he showered the sand and salt off his body, shampooing his hair twice to try and rid it of the debris he’d unintentionally brought home. He’d half hoped Scorpius would hop in with him, but even after taking as long as possible to comb an unnecessary amount of conditioner through his hair, he’d let that particular dream die and turned the shower off. 

After drying off, Albus stepped out of the en-suite and into their bedroom in just his towel, most disappointed to find Scorpius still absent. He assumed an owl had brought him something from work which was keeping him busy; he knew Scorpius would rather know what was going on but he just hoped it wasn’t any bad news. Surely that would be very unfair when they knew Scorpius was on holiday? Although Albus was aware his bias for keeping Scorpius happy didn’t exist in the professional world of St Mungo’s. 

Back in the en-suite bathroom, Albus experimentally ran his hand over his beard, watching his reflection in consideration. His face was itching and felt hot and uncomfortable, even after washing the sand out of his beard. He hadn’t gone completely clean-shaven for about a year and he knew it made him look far younger, but if he was going to end up with that much sand stuck to him every day, he didn’t think he could stand it. 

Suddenly, the idea of getting rid of it seemed incredibly appealing. Just for the duration of the holiday. He’d start letting it grow back in a few days before they went home or something. Firm in his resolve, Albus rooted in his and Scorpius’ shared toiletries bag until he found his husband’s razor. He only used it once a week, if that, but Albus knew he took very good care of it. 

It was satisfying, slowly removing his beard stroke by stroke. It felt a little like he was shedding a layer of himself, and his skin felt fresh and free underneath. He’d switched between committing to shaving most days and letting his beard grow in for most of his adult life but nowadays he was rarely without it. Albus thought the last time he’d gone without a beard must have been earlier in the year for Ava’s wedding (and he’d emerged from the bathroom with a truly awful moustache still in place, managing to convince a horrified Scorpius it was a new look he was trying for a good few hours before he broke and got rid of it).

He was almost finished, finishing the last part on his chin and looking at himself clean shaven for the first time in ages, when a sudden voice made him jump out of his skin. 

“What are you doing?”

“Ow! Fuck!” Albus dropped the razor with a clatter and pressed his palm hard against his chin, where he’d just misangled the blade in shock and cut himself. Blood dripped down his wrist and Albus swore again as he felt the sting. 

“I scared you! I’m sorry.”

Scorpius came running over and pulled his wand out, gently removing Albus’ hand from his face and muttering a quick spell. The stinging sensation disappeared and Scorpius patted his cheek with a soft smile. 

“Thanks,” Albus said dryly as he raised his blood soaked hand.

“Let me clean you up.” Scorpius used another spell to vanish the blood. “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“S’alright,” Albus shrugged. “I was just testing you.” 

“I take it you’re getting rid of that bit too,” Scorpius grinned, tapping Albus’ chin lightly where the last patch of his beard remained. 

“No, no, this is the look,” Albus said casually, turning to the mirror and striking a ridiculous pose, all smouldering eyes and hand flat under what was left of his beard, his fingers resting beneath his chin.

“This is… an extreme decision,” Scorpius commented gently, watching Albus remove the last of his beard. 

“You should have seen how much sand was stuck in it.” Albus shook his head and placed the razor down. 

“Hmm, yeah, you’re looking a little bit irritated,” Scorpius ran a hand softly over Albus’ cheek, his eyes full of concern. “You should use some moisturiser. I brought that lovely French one, you can use that.”

“I will, love.” Albus gently took Scorpius’ wrist before he could start rooting for the French moisturiser and avoid the subject any longer. “What did work say?” 

Scorpius didn’t look up at Albus straight away, instead addressing the sink. “Eighteen new cases, six of them at stage two already,” he said quietly. 

“I thought things were improving?” Albus wondered aloud, realising he might have been a bit naive.

“No, if anything, things are getting worse.”

“But you’ve seemed so much brighter recently?” Albus looked at him in confusion. 

“I suppose this stress level has become my new normal.” Scorpius shrugged.

Albus frowned. “Are you sure you want to be getting updates of the crisis meetings while we’re here? It’s your holiday too.” 

“I have to, Al,” Scorpius said with a pained expression. “I’d hate not knowing.”

“But it’s just stressing you out,” Albus protested, taking Scorpius’ hand in his. 

“I’d be more stressed if I didn’t have the facts and instead let my  _ anxiety  _ tell me what’s happening. It doesn’t tend to be the most accurate, you remember,” Scorpius said dryly. 

“I want you to relax.” Albus leaned closer. “I could run you a bath?” he offered in a whisper.

“Or you could help the St Mungo’s potioneers with the BCF cure.” Scorpius blurted out then immediately blushed. “Er, I’d meant to lead into that a bit more.”

Albus felt his cheeks heat up and his hand went straight to the back of his hair. “Bloody hell, Scor. I’m glad you saved that for when I’d finished shaving.” He laughed but he wasn’t sure why.

Scorpius, however, looked solemn. “Seriously, Albus, would you consider helping us? I hate to ask, but things are getting desperate and I’m not even sure the Potions department have as much of a handle on it as they’re letting on. I think we really need you.”

Albus sat down on the bed, staring at his feet in thought. Working on the BCF cure, throwing himself back into an environment where he was answering to someone else, but potentially bringing his skills somewhere they were needed. 

“Come on, your potioneers are plenty experienced,  _ and  _ they’re Healing experts. How much help can I really be?”

“It’s barely about Healing. They’re trying to reformulate, find an alternative to Granian hair. Nothing’s worked so far and that’s just what you’re best at!” 

“Do you really think I could be helpful?” Albus hesitated and swallowed. “I thought about offering, back when you told me about the Granian hair and the resistance, but I just felt like I’d be stepping on people’s toes. I mean, I trained with Martha, she’s got  _ years  _ more experience than me.” 

“With the greatest respect to Martha, I think some new, fresh ideas are just what we need.” Scorpius placed a hand on top of his knee. “Come on, Albus. This is what you’re best at, please?” 

“And you don’t think I’d be-“

“Albus,” Scorpius cut in, “the potioneers are well past the point of being prideful. If this keeps going the way it is, we’re going to find ourselves with a Stage Three case and I just don’t… don’t know what-“ 

Scorpius choked on his words and stopped talking, his eyes tearing up. Albus pulled him in close and wrapped his arms around his husband.

“Stop. It hasn’t happened.” He hugged Scorpius tightly and let him sniff into his shoulder. “I’ll help, if they want me to, I’ll help. I’ll do whatever I can. The American licence can wait.” 

Scorpius nodded and sniffed again, remaining buried in Albus’ shirt. “Sorry,” he mumbled after a long pause. 

“Don’t be.” Albus rubbed his back in soothing circles. “It’s all going to be okay.” 

“Thank you.” With a deep, shuddering breath, Scorpius pulled away and blinked at Albus, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “Does that offer of a bath still stand?” 

Albus smiled. “Only if you feel like sharing.” 

* * *

Albus stifled a huge yawn behind a large mug of coffee, wondering how everyone else seemed to have so much energy. He was rather tired, owing to the fact that he and Scorpius hadn’t gone to bed until past midnight when they’d got back from their moonlit dip in the pool. Somehow, Scorpius was full of beans and enthusiastically telling Ginny all about a local Cornish pixie garden he’d read about in a magazine.

“Albus.” Lily clicked her fingers sharply in front of his face. “Did you accidentally shave your ears off too?” 

“Huh?” Albus blinked at her in confusion. 

“I asked if you could pass the jam.”

Albus mumbled a sleepy apology and handed her the jar. 

Only James looked as tired as Albus felt when he ambled into the kitchen last, shirtless and wearing board shorts. His hair was a rumpled mess and he had a pair of glasses on, although Albus knew they were an accessory only and James didn’t need them to see. He slid into a free chair and reached for a jug of orange juice, pouring himself a glass.

“G morn, fam,” he said, raising the glass of juice and grinning around at them all.  “He has arisen!” Lily teased.

James chuckled and his eyes fell on Albus. He froze, then looked around at everyone else at the table. Albus could feel what sort of thing was coming and he rolled his eyes preemptively.

“Um, excuse me, is nobody going to introduce me?” 

“Introduce you?” Albus’ dad, also drinking coffee, eyed James with confusion.

“Well I didn’t realise the twins had brought a friend!” James exclaimed with a smug grin. He turned to Albus. “Have you started school yet, little one?” 

Albus gave him a thin lipped smile and ran his hand over his smooth chin. “You’re allowed to make one more joke for the rest of the holiday.” 

“That’s wildly unfair. Who thinks I should get to make more? I’ve just thought of another one!” He clicked his fingers. “Wait, make that two others!” 

“I’m sure they’re all hilarious,” Albus scoffed. 

“Come on, Al, you can’t expect to walk in here this morning like that and just  _ get away with it _ .” He looked around at the table incredulously.

“I think he looks very handsome,” their mum said, swallowing a mouthful of toast. 

“Me too,” Scorpius said sweetly, placing a hand on Albus’ knee under the table, which didn’t help Albus’ case at all.

James pretended to vomit into his juice.

“I didn’t know we brought a friend!” Pippa bounced on her knees on her chair. “Which friend is coming, Daddy? Eloise? Coach Cole?” 

“Coach Cole is coming?” Clementine looked equally excited. 

James looked a bit sheepish. 

Teddy sighed. “Uncle James, you can explain that one.” 

“So what’s the plan for today, Lil?” James said loudly.

As Lily rattled off a description of some tidepools she thought sounded interesting, Albus tuned out and gazed over at his husband. His eyes were shining as he nodded enthusiastically along with what Lily was saying but Albus could see the telltale signs of the extra pressure his husband was carrying. He’d written a letter the night before to his boss, offering Albus’ help and Albus knew he’d woken up especially early to send it before anyone else was awake. 

Scorpius thought they’d probably hear back from Ruth by the end of the day at the latest and Albus was glad they planned to be out at the beach for most of that time to stop him worrying about what she would say. 

Perhaps he was thankful for the distraction too. 

“Right, everyone meet by the door in twenty minutes!” Lily said, equal measures commanding and excited. 

“I just got here!” James said incredulously, buttering a piece of toast. 

“Twenty-five minutes?” Lily offered. 

In the end, it was closer to forty-five minutes before they were all beach-ready and at the door to leave. Albus had spent a quarter of an hour looking for his swimming trunks before embarrassingly realising he’d left them on the side of the pool the night before, subtly retrieving them and thanking every star he’d ever learned about in Astronomy that nobody else had found them out there first; he’d never live it down. 

It was a short but pretty walk to Swanpool beach and they stumbled almost immediately upon a nice clear space to set up. It promised to be a warm, sunny day and the sky was home to a few tiny wisps of cloud. Albus felt the pleasant warmth on his face and watched rays of sunlight bounce off the metallic rims of Scorpius’ sunglasses. 

“Daddy, I want a sand horse.” Pippa sat cross legged on the sand, an angelic expression on her face. “No, a sand unicorn!” 

“Erm,” Teddy pretended to busy himself by checking the cooling charm on the sandwiches. “I think your Uncle Harry is best at those.” 

Albus snorted at the bewildered expression on his dad’s face as Pippa came bouncing up to him with a detailed description of the type of sand unicorn she would like please. He caught his mum’s eye and she smirked too, unrolling a towel. 

“Who wants to come into the water with me?” Lily was halfway through stripping off her clothes and was shaking her long hair out behind her. 

“Me!” Clementine grabbed Lily’s hand and ran with her towards the lapping waves. 

“You need a sun hat!” Victoire went running after them both, wielding Clementine’s hat. 

Albus wiggled his toes into the sand and placed his and Scorpius’ shared beach bag down next to the space where his husband was setting up the three beach chairs he’d excitedly bought for them both and his dad. 

“Aren’t these incredible?” he started announcing excitedly. “The way they fold up so easily. Muggle technology really is amazing.” 

“Astounding.” Draco watched his son prop up the final chair and adjusted his hat. 

Before he could sit down, Albus’ dad waved him over to where he’d started piling a large mound of wet sand together; it was slowly crumbling apart. “Albus, can you find me my wand? It’s somewhere in the bottom of your mum’s beach bag.” 

“That seems like a safe place to keep your wand, Dad,” Albus said sarcastically. 

“Have you ever known her to lose her beach bag?” he countered back with one eyebrow raised. 

“Alright, fine.” 

Scorpius, Draco and Albus’ mum were sitting comfortably in the beach chairs, Ginny rubbing sun protection potion liberally over her shoulders. Albus approached her and knelt down to open her beach bag.

“Dad needs his wand,” he explained, starting to search for it. 

She nodded and looked at the excess of sun potion spread across both her hands. The next thing Albus knew, she was attacking his back where he was knelt at the beach bag and rubbing the potion in vigorously. 

“Mum!” he protested. “Scor already did my back, thanks.” 

“You can never be too careful,” she replied, rubbing the last of it in and patting his shoulders. “Grab my journal and quill from in there too, would you? My hands are all covered in sun potion.” 

Albus did, pulling out a handsome leather bound journal and eagle feather quill. “What are you writing?” 

“I’ve got an interview to write up by the end of the week,” she explained, opening the journal and sticking her nose into it. 

“We’re supposed to be on  _ holiday _ , Mum,” he scolded. “I wasn’t allowed to bring my Potions kit.” 

“Sadly, the Wimbourne Wasps’ Keeper claiming he doesn’t believe Black Cat Flu exists is proving to be quite the ongoing saga. It’s just  _ one _ interview, that’s it.” She was already flicking through her journal.

“Is your interview with the Keeper?” Draco asked with interest.

Ginny pulled a disgusted face. “Thankfully, no. But the Wasps have banned him from playing until he retracts his words, my interview’s with the head coach.” 

“How can anyone think it doesn’t exist?” Albus asked in confusion but his mum was focusing on her work already. 

Scorpius shrugged. “Some people think the Ministry have made the whole thing up to control us or something.” 

“But… why?”

“In times of crisis, often people look for a solution that makes things more palatable, however irrational,” Draco said diplomatically. 

“That seems so unfair on everyone working so hard, though,” Albus replied, looking to his husband, who looked quite touched as he beckoned Albus over to him. 

With the chair he had hoped for well and truly taken by his mum, Albus sat on the sand in front of Scorpius, resting against his legs. Scorpius gently massaged his shoulders, listening to what his dad was saying. 

“I’ve heard it a lot from a few of the older witches on the market committee. That the Ministry wants to take all their gold and their freedom and it’s all one big conspiracy.” Draco grimaced.

“What did you say to that?” Albus asked with interest, unable to imagine his father-in-law not responding with some perfectly cutting retort.

“I told them in no uncertain terms that they were wrong and that my son wasn’t working himself to the bone saving children’s lives because of a Ministry conspiracy.” He shrugged. 

Albus looked up at his husband with a grin to see him blushing at his dad’s words. 

“It makes me so angry when I hear other parents buying into that,” Teddy put in, looking up from where he was rooting around in a beach bag. “They had to close the girls’ Quidditch sessions and the fuss some of them kicked up! Some of them have actually said they’d rather their kids  _ got it over and done with. _ ” 

“What does that mean?” Albus asked warily.

“They want their children to catch BCF and recover from it so they’re immune.”

Scorpius sighed and removed his sunglasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t build immunity like that. The fewer children who get it, the better. Nobody should  _ want _ their child to catch BCF. They could end up with horrible complications.”

Albus knew he was thinking of Harmony, although the update he’d received the night before said she was still doing well with the potion, just slowly. 

“Do you want to go back to the house?” Scorpius asked quietly and Albus realised he’d been letting his discomfort show; or maybe it was only Scorpius who had noticed because he knew him so well. 

“No, I’m having a nice time, promise.” Albus forced an extra big smile and reached for Scorpius’ hand. “I want to be where you are.”

Unfortunately, James, who’d just returned with the others, overheard their interaction.

“You sure, Albs?” He pretended to look concerned. “The sand’s not too sandy? The water isn’t too wet?” 

Albus gave him a withering look. James was no doubt referring to the time when he’d been about four, on the beach near Shell Cottage, and had run away from the waves, complaining that they were too wet. 

“I know the beach can be overwhelming for small children,” he continued to tease. “How old are you again? Eleven? Twelve?” 

“Uncle Al isn’t  _ twelve,”  _ Clementine corrected him with a giggle. “He’s twenty-five. Is that right?” 

“Ah yes, my mistake, it’s that prepubescent, beardless glow.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, just a bit hot.” 

“The water’s lovely to cool off,” Lily smiled. “I’m going back in!” 

“Oh, wait for me!” Scorpius got up excitedly and turned to take Albus’ hand. “Are you coming?” 

Albus thought for a second then grinned and gripped his hand, letting Scorpius pull him up to standing. They dashed to the waves together, in hot pursuit of Lily who was running at full speed towards the crashing waves.

“Body surf with me!” she cried excitedly.

“What’s  _ body surfing _ ?” Scorpius asked, looking down at his ankles in delight as the waves lapped against them.

“You’ll love it,” Albus assured him, taking his hand to wade deeper into the water. “You wait for a big wave then dive away from it and let it take you back to shore.” 

Scorpius looked a little bit wary.

“It requires no coordination whatsoever,” Albus added with a chuckle. “We used to do it when we were kids.”

“Alright, show me.” Scorpius nodded. 

“Too late,” Lily called over her shoulder from ahead of them. “Here comes a big one.” 

Albus grinned and turned his body away from the oncoming wave, urging Scorpius to do the same. “Ready?” he said to Scorpius with a wink. 

“Um.”

Before Scorpius had time to say anything else, the wave hit them and Albus jumped away from it, still holding his husband’s hand. The two of them skimmed neatly back towards the shore where the wave deposited them in a heap in the shallows. Scorpius laughed loudly and struggled to pull himself back to standing. 

“That was exhilarating!” he said happily, flicking his wet hair from his eyes. 

“I knew you’d love it,” Lily said proudly, already wading back out for another turn. “Just wait, by the end of this holiday I’ll have your dad doing it with us.”

Albus squinted into the distance where Scorpius’ dad was very pointedly avoiding the sea in his long-sleeved sun protecting top and expensive-looking shorts. He thought Lily was being a bit optimistic; Draco seemed perfectly content to remain on the sand.

They body surfed for a while longer until Albus didn’t think he could crash into the soft sand one more time. Scorpius, too, seemed to be satisfied with his experience and they trudged back up the beach hand in hand. 

The sight which met him was his dad and Draco, crouched down and seemingly piling sand on top of Pippa’s outstretched legs, who was sitting between them. 

“How’s your side looking?” Draco peered over the top of a giggling Pippa to where Harry was carefully moulding sand into place. “Hmm, not as neat as my side.” 

“I like all the sides!” Pippa cried happily, spotting that Albus and Scorpius had returned. “Look, I’m a mermaid!” 

“A mermaid  _ in progress,”  _ Harry amended, glancing over at what Draco was doing and attempting to copy. 

“You know you’re going to have to do that all over again for Clementine?” Albus reached for a towel and rubbed it through his hair. 

“Clemmy will want fairy wings!” Pippa announced.

Albus watched Draco exchange a look with Harry, both of them seemingly at a loss over how to make fairy wings out of wet sand. 

“I suppose we could have her lie down…” Harry mused, pausing his tail building for a second.

“And have the wings laying out around her,” Draco finished and they shared a nod of understanding. 

“Keep making my tail, please!” Pippa commanded when she realised they’d both stopped. 

“Pippa, be polite,” Teddy reminded her.

“I said  _ please,”  _ Pippa muttered. 

When they returned to the house that evening, it was to find a letter waiting on the pillow of their bed (Scorpius had left the window open for the owl). It was in a St Mungo’s envelope but lacked the usual wax seal Albus was used to seeing. 

“I think it’s from Ruth,” Scorpius said, going to open the envelope. 

Albus gently held a hand out to stop him, inspecting the writing. “That’s Martha’s handwriting.”

“Martha from Potions? Martha who used to be your mentor?” 

Albus nodded and grinned as he gave the envelope back to Scorpius to open. He eased out the letter inside and unfolded it so Albus could see too:

_ A resounding yes please. An Albus Potter solution is just what we need. Come in and see me when you get back? _

Albus laughed lightly. “No pressure.”

Scorpius bit his lip. “Are you alright with this, Albus?”

He let the letter fall to the top of the bed and wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist. “Yes, I’m alright with it.” He pressed a quick kiss to Scorpius’ lips. “I’m coming to work with you again.” 

That evening, James was in front of the barbecue, prodding at the grilling food like he knew what he was doing when it was inevitable to Albus that their dad had set it up and left James to supervise. He’d tied a chef’s apron unnecessarily over his bare chest because James seemed to believe a second on holiday he wasn’t shirtless was a second wasted.

“Nice sunburn,” Albus commented, taking in the pink hue of the back of James’ neck. “Missed a bit with your potion?” 

_ “No,” _ James retorted, turning to point his barbecue tongs accusingly at Albus. “I actually put  _ your  _ potion on it, maybe you can explain why it didn’t work.”

“Because you didn’t reapply properly. It only lasts two hours,” Teddy said lazily, placing a bowl of potato salad on the patio table and sitting down. 

James rolled his eyes. “Al, can you get on inventing an everlasting sun protection potion when we get home?” He turned back to the barbecue.

“Yeah, sure,” Albus said without really thinking. “Er, actually…” He caught Scorpius’ eye and gave him a meaningful look.

“What?” James was eyeing him suspiciously, a shadow of annoyance crossing his features. 

“Well,” Albus stalled, checking to see if his mum was listening too. “Now’s as good a time to tell you as any.”

He felt Scorpius let out a tiny sigh of realisation beside him and he squeezed Albus’ knee under the table. 

“Tell us what?” Ginny folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.

“Well,” Albus said, looking at Scorpius again. “It’s only a tentative agreement, but when we get home I’m going to be going back into my old department and seeing if I can be of any help with the BCF cure.”

“You’re working for the hospital?” his mum looked faintly surprised. 

Albus sighed. “They need more support, I’ve just hired Finley anyway.” 

“Well that’s great,” his mum said after a pause. “I’m sure they’re pleased to have you, darling.”

“Yes, very good news,” his dad said with a nod.

Lily looked pensive. “Could you look at plant-based alternatives to Granian hair? Something which didn’t come from a creature.”

“Er, I barely know anything about it yet, Lil. But I’m sure that’s being considered.”

“Burgers are ready,” James said into the pause which followed Albus’ words and everybody turned their attention to eating.

* * *

Albus closed his eyes for just a second, the sounds of the twins squealing delightedly in the pool with Teddy and Scorpius filling his thoughts with visions of a future where he and Scorpius had their own baby. Hot, bubbly water swirled around him in the hot tub adjacent to the pool and he felt more relaxed than he had in months. 

“Again, Scorpy!” Pippa cried in utter joy. 

Albus grinned to himself and opened his eyes to see James clambering over the side of the hot tub to join him. He had a can of cold butterbeer in each hand and he passed one to Albus with a nod.

“Hey, moody,” James gently bumped his shoulder into Albus’. “What’s with the solo, hot tub brooding?”

“I’m not brooding,” Albus protested.

“I haven’t seen that expression on your face since you were a teenager. Is it this hospital thing?”

“No,” Albus said quickly. “Well, yes, a bit.”

“It’s shit, this Black Cat Flu thing. You’ll be useful to them though, I’m sure. Use your nerdiness for good, brother of mine.”

“Hopefully I can be helpful, I don’t know.” Albus shrugged. 

James settled into the water and sighed with content, looking out over the swimming pool he now had a perfect view of. His eyes widened a bit. “Shit, I didn’t know Scorpius was that… athletic.”

Albus turned in his place to see the pool too. Scorpius had Pippa hanging off his back and he was swimming rapid lengths up and down the pool, Pippa crying something which sounded like  _ faster, horsie _ the entire time 

He chuckled as he looked back at James. “He’s surprisingly strong, you know.”

“Does he lift?” James asked, taking a sip of butterbeer.

“No, he hates it. He just swims a lot, I think it relaxes him.” Albus drank some of his own butterbeer, marvelling at the sweetness; he didn’t drink it much anymore. 

“How’s your Palace of Love coming along?” 

“If you mean the normal-sized four bedroom house we’re renovating, we still haven’t found one.”

“You still going to be running Fleamont’s out of home like you do now?”

“Yeah.” Albus nodded. “That’s what one of the bedrooms is for.”

“It’s going to be four bedrooms, you said?” James was clearly thinking it through in his head, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well,” Albus started quietly, “Mum and Dad know now, so I might as well tell you.” He tried to ignore the excited flutter in his stomach. “We want to have a baby, like, quite soon. We’re still making some big decisions, but we’re doing a lot of research at the moment.”

“Oh shit, really?” James looked a bit taken aback. “A whole baby?” 

Albus nodded. “It’s what we’ve both always wanted, hence the research.”

“Not like you two can make one by accident.” James chuckled at his own words. 

“No, James. No we cannot,” Albus said dryly. 

“You’re actually definitely doing it, then?”

“I know I want to be a dad, it would make me so happy, but I’ve got a lot of work to do to get there.” He sighed and watched his husband throw Pippa into the air and catch her, both of them laughing uncontrollably. “But Scorpius, he’s already a dad.”

James didn’t say anything, just watched Scorpius for a bit too. 

“We can’t even begin to think about having a baby until Black Cat Flu is at least under control.” 

“Why not?” James asked with a confused expression.

“It would be such a stupid time to have a baby, with all of the risks of BCF.”

“Oh right… of course. I suppose you can really choose when to, like, have one and stuff.” James had a blank sort of expression on his face. “Is that part of the brooding too?” 

Albus nodded reluctantly. “I wish BCF was all over so we could make a proper start. And so Scor could have his life back.” 

“They’ll get to the bottom of it all eventually,” James said optimistically, full of his usual bravado. “You coming shopping with us all this afternoon?” 

Albus considered the question carefully. “Actually, I might go for a run, meet you there after?”

“You do famously detest shopping,” James told him.

“I literally don’t?” Albus raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“Um, yes you do. You used to sulk for  _ hours _ when you knew we were all going to Diagon Alley.”

“When I was a  _ teenager _ and we were doing back to school shopping, maybe. Not all of us sailed through Hogwarts on cloud nine.” He splashed some of the hot tub water at James’ face. 

“Alright, I’ll get you a present,” James said, taking a casual sip of his butterbeer. 

“I can hardly wait,” Albus responded dryly.

That’s how he found himself alone on a footpath a few hours later, nothing but the sea air and the occasional seagull for company. Albus jogged to a halt and bent over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. The air was hot and felt thick to breathe in; he’d barely managed two miles before admitting defeat and slowing to a gentle walk. He was covered in sweat and felt disgusting, but he had that distinct mental clarity running always gave him. His decision to help at the hospital was a good one, for the wizarding world at large and for his marriage.

Not that Albus thought just him being there would instantly solve the crisis of course, but at least he knew he was doing all he could to help. And working in the same place as Scorpius would be nice. 

A quick and surreptitious tempus charm told Albus he was just on time to meet the others at the end of their shopping trip before they all descended onto the beach again. The solo run had done his mind the world of good. Working alone meant he was used to his own company and it was almost overwhelming being around his loud family constantly again. 

A seagull wandered across Albus’ path and he watched it peck experimentally at the ground, moving on dissatisfied. A glance up and Albus realised he was walking directly into Draco, who appeared to be alone too. 

“Oh, hello,” Albus grinned, pushing his sweaty hair from his face. “I thought you were with the others?”

“Hello, Albus.” His father-in-law smiled thinly. “They’re shopping. I elected to take some time out.” 

Albus nodded in understanding. While Scorpius seemed to love the chaotic presence of Albus’ family at any given time, Draco was much more in his school of thinking and seemed to prefer them in short bursts instead. 

“Me too, decided to get a run in.” Albus pointedly breathed a bit deeper. “Are you heading back to the house?” 

Draco nodded and they fell in step together. 

“So you’re going back to potioning at St Mungo’s?” Draco started cautiously, as if he was preparing to curtail the conversation if necessary. 

Albus nodded. “If I can help then I want to try. I’ve got Finley now to help with Fleamont’s.”

“Of course, of course. And that’s going well?”

“Yeah, Fin’s great. I can really trust him, you know?” 

Draco adopted a shrewd expression. 

“What? Do you not think I should trust him?” 

“No, it’s not that. Frankly, Albus, I’m surprised. After what happened with your first assistant…”

Albus pulled a disgusted face. “That was different, Finley’s not my assistant like Fergus was. I was doing Professor Jacobs a favour when I agreed to take him on and I was young and naive. This is more like a partnership.”

Draco nodded, still with that shrewd look that Albus just couldn’t read. 

“Scorpius mentioned that you’re thinking of getting an American potioneering licence?” 

“Oh, I was, yeah. It’s a workaround for some of the longer paperwork and waiting times.” As he spoke, he felt his heartbeat pick up and he hoped Draco didn’t notice. “But that plan’ll have to go on hold if I’m going to be working at the hospital.”

“I think it’s a good idea, especially with StarBrews snooping around.”

Albus felt himself turn red. “What do you mean?”

“Well they’ve stolen your Invigoration recipe, haven’t they,” Draco said casually, but Albus could see a tension in his jaw that reminded him of Scorpius when he was upset. 

“I-” Albus cleared his throat to buy some time. “How did you know about that?” he asked sheepishly. “Did Scorp-”

“Scorpius didn’t say a thing, I just happen to take an interest in the global experimental potions market,” Draco said evenly. “It’s a direct copy, is it not? Fireseed instead of firecrab.” 

“Well… yes,” Albus told him helplessly. “But I can’t do anything about it.” 

Draco’s questioning glance was all it took for Albus to launch into the whole sorry tale. How he and Rose had come up with the idea for the American patent, how Harrington had been so dismissive, how it looked like StarBrews had already registered the idea, how Albus was still suspicious of the whole thing. He told Draco all about the plan for him to get an American licence to head them off but how he was worried it would still never be enough, the way he felt so targeted, then stupid for feeling that way. 

And Draco listened as they walked, giving nothing away but a darkened expression. 

“I just want to forget they even exist,” Albus finished with a deep sigh. “But that seems to be impossible if I want to sell my potions in America. Not that I’m going to be able to get this licence any time soon.” 

Draco hummed in agreement. “Why doesn’t Finley get the licence instead?”

Albus froze on the spot, allowing his thoughts to catch up with themselves. He hadn’t even considered that option but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Fleamont’s was  _ his _ business, his proudest achievement, surely it had to be him who did something like this? Even if he was going to be splitting his time with St Mungo’s now too...

“Think about it,” Draco said into the silence of Albus’ thoughts.

Albus nodded and they walked on.

“Scor hasn’t bought any more furniture, has he?” Albus matched Draco’s pace as they headed in the direction of the house.

“He’d been commandeered by Lily as I left, something about needing to buy a healing crystal. It didn’t sound like furniture.”

“No, healing crystals can fit in the new house that we don’t actually have yet.” Albus laughed as they hiked up the drive.

Albus wanted nothing more than to immediately jump into the cool pool, but the others were all already there and commandeered him at the door. 

“Al, I got you a present.” James dropped something small into his hand with a flourish. “For you.”

Albus looked into his palm and found a small, rainbow striped, enamel pin badge in the shape of a rosette award. The rosette read  _ too gay to function _ in gold. 

“Teddy picked it out,” James said quickly, “and he found this one for me.”

James flashed his own pin, which was in the shape of a trophy emblazoned with the words  _ Bi Disaster.  _

“Did they just have a whole section or something? Was there a certificate with  _ Painfully Heterosexual?”  _

Scorpius snorted and took Albus’ hand. “Mine doesn’t have words.” He proudly showed off a tiny pineapple pin. “It matches our flip flops.”

“What else did you get?” Albus eyed the shopping bags at his husband's feet curiously, hoping he hadn’t bought another ridiculously expensive lampshade for their as-of-yet non-existent house.

“I thought this was fun.” Scorpius pulled out yet another pineapple, this one made of porcelain and flecked with gold. A curly font swirled all over it:  _ live like a pineapple: stand tall, wear a crown and be sweet on the inside.  _

“Perfect, really,” James nodded, “because you live like a pineapple too, Albus.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe we never noticed you’d been a pineapple all this time.”

“A pineapple?”

“You’re prickly with out of control hair,” James snorted.

“But you have the sweetest inside!” Lily added with a glowing smile. 

“Brilliant,” Albus said with an eye roll. “And what’s in there?” He suspiciously eyed a large bag to the side of the table Scorpius’ wrist. 

“Oh!” Scorpius handed the pineapple to Lily and excitedly held the bag up. “This is for you.”

The bag was heavier than Albus had been expecting and he was confused why Scorpius had bought him something so big for no particular reason. It can’t have been furniture for their new house, because that would have been for them both. Inside the bag was a large, rectangular, pale pink box patterned with green palm leaves. Albus placed it on the table and tucked the bag away.

“What is this?” Albus realised everyone was watching him open it. 

“Open it and find out.” Scorpius was practically levitating off his seat in excitement. “It’s very… on theme.”

With a bemused smirk, Albus gently eased the lid off the box and looked down into it. There, nestled amongst green tissue paper, was a shiny, sweet little ukulele. It was made of a rich looking wood, heavily varnished so it shone in the light and edged with an iridescent pattern that looked like abalone shells. Albus looked from the instrument to his husband’s face, his jaw unintentionally dropping. 

“Scor, what’s this?” 

“It’s a ukelele! I wanted to get you one when we went away, they come from Hawaii, you see. But then there was this shop selling them here and apparently, if you can already play the guitar, you can pick up the uke in an instant. I thought it would be so fun for you to try!” 

Albus removed the ukulele from the box; it was light and the neck fit neatly in his hand. He experimentally held it across his body, like he would a guitar, plucking at a string and smiling at the noise it made. 

“Play something, Al!” Lily insisted. 

“Hold on, give me a second to work it out.” 

Albus tried again, strumming across the strings in a melodic chord. 

Everyone was waiting expectantly and Albus suddenly felt self-conscious. 

“I’ll have a practice, show you all tonight,” he said, placing the ukulele carefully back in the box. 

“Tonight is Coconuts and Cocktails Beach Bonfire night,” Lily said immediately. 

Albus blinked at her, unsure how to respond. “I’ll bear that in mind, Lil.”

Later, Albus was sitting cross legged on the bed while Scorpius finished getting ready, the ukulele across his lap. He was plucking at the strings and singing softly to himself.

_ If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, _ _   
_ _ Then I’ll follow you into the dark. _

Albus admired his husband as he buttoned his shirt in the mirror, knowing the pale blue would bring out his eyes beautifully. His blond hair looked better than ever, freshly cut just that afternoon, artfully tousled on the top, a far cry from the usual smart, carefully parted and combed style he did for work. Albus hadn’t seen Scorpius without his _work_ _hair_ for what felt like months before this holiday and it changed Scorpius’ entire demeanour; he appeared lighter and more carefree. 

“You look so lovely,” Albus told him sincerely as Scorpius started to tuck his shirt in. He put the ukulele on the bed and got up. “I could look at you all day.” 

A faint blush appeared on Scorpius’ cheeks, as if Albus didn’t tell him he was beautiful at least once a day, and he turned from the mirror to meet Albus in the middle of the room. 

“I’d be okay with that. Sell your business to Finley, follow me around full time.” Scorpius rested his hands on Albus’ hips. “That way, I get to look at you all day too,” he whispered.

Albus smirked as Scorpius reached up to adjust the neckline of Albus’ white t-shirt, running his hands over the shoulders and down Albus’ arms. It was one of the softest items of clothing Albus owned, a tiny blue anchor embroidered onto the top corner which Scorpius now grazed a fingertip past. 

“Is this shirt new?” Albus mimicked his husband, straightening Scorpius’ collar, even though it was already immaculate. 

“Bought it with Dad. It’s from the same shop I got you that grey jumper.” Scorpius leant forward so their foreheads were touching. 

Sometimes Albus wondered if other couples did this: had the most ordinary of conversations whilst totally wrapped up in each other. He was distracted from this thought by the sensual feeling of Scorpius’ fingertips creeping into his hair and running across the back of his head. 

“The sea air is good for your hair,” Scorpius murmured. “Your curls are coming back.” 

Albus reached up to touch his hair, realising that Scorpius was right and it had dried with more of a wave than he was used to at home due to the humidity. He pulled at a strand, feeling a bit self conscious, frowning in doubt.

“S’it look bad?” 

“No, no, I love your curls.” Scorpius brought him closer to his chest and kissed the top of his head, his fingers still running rhythmic patterns all over Albus’ scalp. “Beautiful, your hair’s beautiful, you’re beautiful.” 

Albus closed his eyes in satisfaction. “Scor, you keep doing that and we’re going to be late for dinner.” 

“So let’s be late,” Scorpius whispered right into his ear. 

“For Coconuts and Cocktails Beach Bonfire night?” Albus teased. 

They were late. 

The bonfire was already roaring by the time they got to it but nobody batted much of an eyelid at their late arrival; everyone was really settling into the relaxing vibes of the break. 

“You’re just in time for some pizza,” Lily said, offering Albus a plate of something. “We made it on the bonfire.” 

“Pizza on a bonfire?” 

Lily nodded proudly. “It was somewhat of an experiment but yes! Look, it’s sort of rolled into itself like a cone.” 

This was what Albus had pictured in the weeks leading up this holiday. Leant against Scorpius, his husband’s arm slung casually across his shoulders, Pippa curled up in his lap, his whole family in their cosiest fleeces, a bonfire roaring in front of them and glinting in everyone’s eyes. Lily had charmed her music box to play softly; Albus was going to crack out his new ukulele in a minute. It was idyllic. 

“And being here with you all,” his mum said, finishing off a somewhat rambly monologue that had been her contribution to Lily’s suggestion that they all take part in a  _ gratitude practice. _

Albus already knew what he was going to say when it was his turn, he’d been turning the words over in his mind for a while.

“Jamesy, your turn,” their mum said, hugging him into her side and kissing his hair. 

James looked around the group at everyone’s eyes on him and Albus was expecting him to perform a silly grin, maybe even another clicking point, and say he was grateful for pizza. 

But James looked uncharacteristically serious. 

“Um, I’m grateful for you lot,” he said quietly with a bit of a helpless expression. He paused like he was expecting a bit of teasing, but nobody said anything, a strange expectant tension filling the air. “I’m grateful for you lot because you won’t abandon me when I tell you this.”

Albus felt Scorpius go rigid beside him. Pippa slid off Albus’ lap and climbed into Teddy’s instead, slipping her thumb back into her mouth and watching James with wary curiosity, the flames of the bonfire dancing in her blue eyes.

Their mum exchanged a look with their dad and put a hand on James’ shoulder. “James, what is it?” 

James looked a bit like he was going to be sick and he put his drink down, clasping his hands between his open knees and staring hard at the floor. 

He took a deep breath.

“Langley’s pregnant.” 

There was a still pause and Albus felt his stomach drop. 

“With my baby. She’s pregnant and it’s mine,” James added, as if they hadn’t all guessed that. “And we didn’t mean to, but I think I’m having a baby.” 

He laughed maniacally, sounding almost relieved to have got that off his chest. Albus stared at his brother in disbelief, emotion coursing through his veins at such a rate that he couldn’t even focus on saying anything in response. 

It wasn’t until he felt Scorpius grip his knee that Albus realised what he was feeling was anger, that his fist was clenched. He was furious and he wasn’t interested in thinking about why, he just knew that in that moment, he could have happily punched his brother in the face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this... a bombshell? thank you for reading! 
> 
> tumblr and insta: littlerose13writes
> 
> let me know what you thought! did anyone see this coming? what do you think will happen next? why is Albus so upset?
> 
> see you next week! xx

**Author's Note:**

> (NB: I have tried to tag for everything that might be needed, some themes are more prevalent in the story than others, please feel free to message me to ask about any of the tags!)


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